“The Damaras,” they said, “are now watching us from a distance; and, as soon as we shall have gone to sleep, they will suddenly fall upon us, and assegai us.”
Timbo, John St. Helena, and John Allen evidently believed them, and looked wretchedly uncomfortable. As for myself, though there certainly was nothing at all improbable in the story, I felt less apprehensive than annoyed, well knowing the bad effect it would have on the timid and superstitious minds of my men.
On the third day, about noon, we reached the northern side of Omatako, where we struck a small periodical river of the same name. To our dismay, however, we found it perfectly dry; and, as we had then already been twenty-four hours without a drop of water, I was afraid to proceed any further. Just as we were about to retrace our steps, the river, to our inexpressible delight, came down with a rush. To those of my readers who are not conversant with the mysteries of a tropical climate, it may appear almost impossible that a dry water-course should in the space of five minutes, and without any previous indication, be converted into a foaming torrent; yet, in the rainy season, this is almost an every-day occurrence. Not a cloud obscured the transparent atmosphere at the time, but on the preceding night there had been vivid lightning and heavy thunder in the direction of the source of the river, which sufficiently accounted for the phenomenon.
On this river I saw for the first time the gigantic footprints of elephants. The natives told me that these animals come here in great numbers in the winter-time, and when the water begins to diminish they return slowly northward. Hans assured me that their tracks are still to be seen as far south as the River Swakop, close to its embouchure.
From this point we had a very good prospect of the country. Several interesting mountains presented themselves to the view. To the north, the Konyati, Eshuameno, Ia Kabaka, and Omuvereoom, stood out in bold relief. Some of these were similar to that of Erongo, and, like it, inhabited by Hill-Damaras, as also a few Bushmen.
I was particularly anxious to learn something of the country toward the north, in which direction—as before said—our route to Omanbondè lay; but it was in vain that I endeavored to get any thing like correct information from the natives, notwithstanding some had actually been living there. I was excessively annoyed, and imagined that their conflicting accounts were purposely invented to deceive and frighten me; but, as I became more intimate with the Damara character, I found that they lied more from habit than for the mere sake of lying. Indeed, a Damara would believe his own lies, however glaring and startling they might be. Thus, for instance, they informed me that the mountain Omuvereoom, which was distinctly visible, lay ten long days’ journey off, and was inhabited by Hill-Damaras and Bushmen, whom they represented as perfect devils; moreover, that the intervening space was entirely destitute of water, and that any one attempting to traverse it would be sure to perish. At a subsequent period, we not only reached this mountain after fourteen hours’ traveling, but found an abundance of water; and the natives, instead of being monsters, were the most timid and harmless of human beings.
This, however, is only one of the hundred instances that might be mentioned of the difficulty of eliciting truth from the Damaras. The missionaries had been living for several years at Barmen and Schmelen’s Hope before they were aware of the existence of either “Buxton” or Okandu fountain, and yet these places were within a very short distance of the stations, and they had made repeated inquiries after springs.
With regard to the distance and situation of Omanbondè, the chief object of our journey, they could not say whether one or ten weeks would be required in order to reach it. One man told Galton that if he started at once for this place, and traveled as fast as he could, he would be an old man by the time he returned.[19]
Returning homeward, we pursued a somewhat different course. The first night, the men, for the sake of variety it is presumed, thought fit to encamp in the middle of an ant-hill! I was absent at the time, and on returning, all the arrangements had been made for the night. Tired as we were, I could not well think of moving. The result may easily be imagined.
The next day, in the more open parts of the country, we met with a very great abundance of a kind of sweet berry, about the size of peas, which afforded us a most delicious feast.