On the morning of the 26th of December Galton returned from his excursion to Erongo. He had been suffering from fever, and was right glad to find himself safe back at the encampment. The trip had been rather satisfactory. The chief result of it was an addition of about twenty oxen, and double that number of sheep and goats, to our live-stock. We were now pretty well provided against all emergences, at least for some time to come. Galton had, moreover, ascended the mountain, with which he expressed himself much struck and pleased. He fully corroborated the story of the natives as to its impregnability, for it was accessible only in one or two places, and these could easily be defended against a whole army by a mere handful of men.
In round numbers, it was about three thousand feet above the level of the plain, and extended in a straight line upward of fifteen miles. The vegetation appeared very much the same as elsewhere in Damara-land, but perhaps more rank. The wild fig-tree grew rather plentifully among the crevices of the rocks, and the travelers obtained an abundance of the fruit, which was very palatable.
Erongo was only inhabited by Hill-Damaras, under the rule of different petty chiefs. From all accounts, they were possessed of numerous herds of cattle; but my friend only saw their tracks, as the natives were unwilling to sell or to exhibit any of the animals. They waged an exterminating war with the Damaras, who lived in the plains below, and, having seen the party pass unmolested through the territory of their mortal enemies, they were naturally suspicious as to their motive. They probably thought that Mr. Galton had come with a view to spy out and reconnoitre their stronghold, and then to return with re-enforcements in order to carry off their cattle.
Both in going and coming Galton had passed through several large villages of Damaras, who complained bitterly of the severe drought, which was daily carrying off numbers of their stock. The only place that still afforded grass and water in tolerable abundance was the country bordering on the River Swakop; but there they feared the Namaquas. However, they had only two alternatives—either to risk being plundered by these unscrupulous people, or to perish, with their cattle, from hunger and thirst. The first of these was thought the least of the two, and they were, therefore, gradually approaching the dangerous district. Indeed, several kraals had already been established at Richterfeldt.
Being entirely a pastoral people, the Damaras have no notions of permanent habitations. The whole country is considered public property. As soon as the grass is eaten off or the water exhausted in one place, they move away to another. Notwithstanding this, and the loose notions generally entertained by them as to meum and tuum, there is an understanding that he who arrives first at any given locality is the master of it as long as he chooses to remain there, and no one will intrude upon him without having previously asked and obtained his permission. The same is observed even with regard to strangers. Thus the once powerful chief Kahichenè was anxious to take up his quarters at Richterfeldt; but, acting on the understanding described, he first dispatched some of his head men to Mr. Rath, to ascertain from him how far he was agreeable to his proposal. The reverend gentleman replied that their master could do as he liked in this matter, as he himself was but a stranger, and consequently could not lay any claim to the soil. However, the messengers would not listen to this, and told him that their chief would never think of intruding without having obtained special permission to do so.
At this period Kahichenè was supposed to be the richest and most potent chieftain throughout the country. His wealth, of course, consisted solely in oxen and sheep. To give some idea of the number he then possessed, I will state that, early on the day after the interview just mentioned had taken place, the first droves began to make their appearance, and continued to arrive, without intermission, till late in the evening of the second day. Moreover, they did not come in files of one or two, but the whole bed and banks of the Swakop were actually covered with one living mass of oxen; and, after all, this was but a small portion of what he really owned. In the space of three short weeks not a blade of grass or green thing was to be met with for many miles on either side of Richterfeldt. Indeed, a person unacquainted with the real cause of this desolation would have been likely to attribute it to the devastating influence of that scourge of Africa, the locust.
Much valuable time had hitherto been lost in obtaining information of the country and the inhabitants, in buying and breaking-in of cattle, and so forth, and this without our having accomplished any considerable distance. We were now in hopes, however, of being able to prosecute our journey in earnest, and no time was lost in making the final arrangements for our departure. Our intended route lay to the north of Richterfeldt; but as the country was said to be very hilly and densely wooded, we deemed it advisable to proceed viâ Barmen. As hardly mules enough were left to draw the cart, it was thought best to leave it behind in charge of Mr. Rath, who kindly promised to look after it in our absence. The two wagons were thought sufficiently large to contain ourselves and baggage.
The oxen, which from the beginning had been only partially broken-in, were now, from their long rest, wild, refractory, and unmanageable in the extreme. Before we could effectually secure the two spans (teams) necessary for the wagons, several hours had elapsed, and it was not till late in the afternoon of the 30th of December, 1850, that we were able to bid a final farewell to Richterfeldt and its obliging inhabitants.
We made but little progress the first day; and when we bivouacked for the night, which was on the right bank of the Swakop, we were only three hours’ journey from the missionary station. Indeed, we were obliged to come to an early halt in consequence of the mules and some of the oxen having taken themselves off.