During the night we were serenaded by whole troops of lions and hyænas. One of the latter had the boldness to come within the encampment, and only retreated after an obstinate combat with the dogs. In the bed of the river, moreover, and where our cattle had been drinking during the night, we discovered a spot where a lion had made a dash at a zebra, but his prey had evidently disappointed him.
Next morning, without waiting for the return of the men who had been sent in search of the missing animals, I shouldered my gun and went in advance, in the hope of procuring a few specimens of natural history, as also of meeting with game of some kind or other; nor was I disappointed. At a bend of the river I suddenly encountered a fine herd of oryxes or gemsboks, the supposed South African unicorn. As they dashed across my path at double-quick time, and at least one hundred and fifty yards in advance, I fired at the leading animal (which proved a full-grown female), and had the satisfaction to see it drop to the shot. On going up to my prize, I found that the ball—a conical one—had passed clean through both shoulders, and this was, perhaps, somewhat remarkable, as the gun-barrel was smooth in the bore. Having carefully removed the skin, with the head attached to it, I set to work to quarter the flesh, which was rather a laborious task.
Though it was winter (January), the day was oppressively hot, and the leafless thorn-trees afforded no shelter against the burning rays of the sun. I suffered excessively from thirst, and, unfortunately, the wagons did not overtake me till after sunset. The Damaras yelled with delight at the sight of the oryx. They had a glorious gorge that night, and the return of daylight found them still at their feast!
With the exception of a heavy thunder-storm, accompanied by a deluge of rain, our journey to Barmen was marked by no farther incident worth recording. We reached it in safety on the 9th of January, 1851, after seven days’ travel, half of which would have been sufficient under ordinary circumstances; but we had experienced very considerable difficulties in getting our wagons forward. The oxen pulled well enough so long as the country was level, but the moment they had to face a hill they came to a stand, and no amount of flogging would induce them to move. When the whip was applied, it only produced a furious bellowing, kicking, tossing of heads, switching of tails, and so forth. On such occasions they would not unfrequently twist themselves entirely round in the yoke, and it often took a whole hour to put them to rights again.
On account of the thick wood and general ruggedness of the country, the dry beds of periodical water-courses afford the only really practicable road. On the approach of the rainy season, however, these are not always safe; for, when in imagined security, the traveler may perhaps all at once find himself in the midst of a foaming torrent. If the oxen are not well trained, most serious results are to be dreaded. There are many instances of wagons with their teams having been thus surprised and swept away. Our fears on this head, therefore, were not quieted until we were in full view of the missionary-house at Barmen. Indeed, it was high time, for on the third day of our arrival there the Swakop sent down its mighty flood.
The first showers of rain, it should be remarked, usually fall as early as September and October, but the rainy season does not fairly set in until December and January.
A letter from Jonker Afrikaner was awaiting our arrival, expressing a wish that Mr. Galton, in person, would pay him an early visit, that they might confer together on the affairs of the country. My friend was at first a little undecided how to act, as it might only have been a ruse of the crafty chief to entrap him. However, as, under every circumstance, it would be better to know his real intentions than to be kept in constant uncertainty and suspense, he determined, as soon as circumstances permitted, to comply with Jonker’s desire.
When we bade farewell to Richterfeldt, it was in the firm conviction that the principal obstacles to the expedition had been removed; but we were sadly mistaken. Under different pretexts, the natives whom we had engaged suddenly refused to proceed any further. Even the man who had first drawn our attention to the Lake Omanbondè, and who seemed to be the only one acquainted with it, threatened to leave us. Our Cape servants also became somewhat sulky and discontented. Indeed, two of them, Gabriel and John Waggoner, whom the reader will remember as having already given us some trouble, demanded and obtained their dismissal. Thus circumstanced, it was out of the question to think of immediately carrying our plan into execution. We felt excessively annoyed, and our stock of patience was well-nigh exhausted. Still, we did not give up all hope of ultimate success.
Barmen, however, was ill suited as an encampment; for, though agreeable enough as a residence for ourselves, grass for the cattle was scarce and distant. Mr. Hahn advised us to push on to Schmelen’s Hope, situated at about fifteen miles to the northward, where, inasmuch as there had not been any natives dwelling of late, we should find abundance of pasturage. Accordingly, we acted on his suggestion, and in the afternoon of the 13th of January were established at that place.