Kahichenè was at this period at variance with a very warlike and powerful tribe of Damaras, under the rule of Omugundè, or rather his son, whom he represented as a man degraded by every vice, and particularly inimical toward strangers. We, of course, made due allowances, as our friend was speaking of his mortal enemy; but the account so terrified our men that three of them begged to be dismissed, and they could only be persuaded to discontinue their solicitation by our promising them not to pass through the territory of the hostile chief.
On one occasion, some cattle belonging to Mr. Hahn had been stolen by a party of Omugundè’s men. Remonstrances being made, they were after a time returned, but minus their tails, which were cut off by the natives, and kept by them as “trophies.”
In conflict with Omugundè, several of Kahichenè’s children had been killed, and one or two had unfortunately fallen alive into the hands of the enemy. These were kept as prisoners. Only one stripling was now left to solace Kahichenè in his old age. He informed us that he had made up his mind to try to recover his offspring and his property, or to die in the attempt. At first he appeared anxious for our assistance; but, on mature consideration, he generously refused any interference on our part in his behalf. “For,” said he, “when once the war begins, there is no saying when or where it will end. The whole country will be in an uproar; much blood will be shed; and it would involve you in endless difficulties and dangers.” He, moreover, strongly endeavored to persuade us from proceeding northward at all, but in that matter he of course failed.
We had only been a short time at Kotjiamkombè when it was discovered that four of our best draft-oxen were stolen by some stranger Damaras. On being informed of this theft, Kahichenè became exceedingly annoyed, and even distressed, as he considered us under his special protection. He immediately dispatched men on their tracks, with strict orders to recover the oxen, and, if possible, to bring back the thieves. They succeeded in recapturing all the beasts but one, which the natives had slain and eaten. With regard to the fate of the rogues, we could never ascertain any thing with certainty. We were, however, strongly inclined to think they were all killed, the more so as Kahichenè himself told us that, in case of their capture, they ought to be punished with death, and coolly suggested hanging as the most eligible way of ridding the world of such scoundrels. We, of course, took the liberty to remonstrate with the chief upon the severity of this measure, but with little or no effect. Indeed, one man was accidentally found at a distance from our camp in a horribly mangled state, and, on being brought to us, he stated that he himself, together with several of his friends, were driving away the cattle, when they were overtaken by Kahichenè’s men, who immediately attacked them with their kieries, and only left them when they thought life was extinct. He had, however, partially recovered, but was completely naked, having, as is usual on similar occasions, been stripped of every article of dress. The exterior of his body was nearly covered with blood. The head was almost double its natural size; indeed, it resembled rather a lump of mashed flesh; no particular feature could be distinguished, and his eyes were effectually hidden from view. The sight altogether was hideous.
Instead of proceeding due north, as was originally proposed, it was found necessary, in order to avoid Omugundè, to make a considerable détour to the westward. As Kahichenè, with his tribe, was encamped in that direction, he invited us to take his werft by the way, to which we cordially assented. On the day of our departure from Kotjiamkombè, the chief led the way. A branch of a particular kind of wood (having a small, red, bitter berry, not unlike that of the mountain-ash) was trailed before him—a superstitious act, thought to be essential in insuring success during the pending attack against his mortal enemy.
Before reaching the chief’s kraal, we passed the foot of a very conspicuous mountain called Ombotodthu. This elevation is remarkable for its peculiar red stone, which is eagerly sought after by the natives. Having reduced it to powder, they mix it with fat, when it is used as an ointment. I was at first struck by its great resemblance to quicksilver ore, and was led to believe that we had really discovered a mine of that valuable mineral. However, on considering the harmless effect it had on the natives, and that, had it been quicksilver, its use would have produced an opposite result, I came to the conclusion that it was simply oxide of iron, which has since been confirmed by analysis.
On arriving at Kahichenè’s werft we were well received by our host and his tribe, from whom we obtained by barter a few head of cattle. Indeed, we might here have sold all our articles of exchange to great advantage; but this was not thought advisable, as, in case of the cattle being lost or stolen, we should have been in a state of complete destitution. Could we, however, have foreseen the future, our tactics would have been different; for, as it afterward turned out, this was almost the last opportunity we had of providing ourselves with live-stock.
By a strange chance, I accidentally became the owner of a percussion rifle, which had at one time belonged to Hans, but who, years previously, had disposed of it to a Damara. The latter, however, finding that he could not obtain a regular supply of caps, offered to exchange it for a common flint-lock musket. The rifle was a very indifferent and clumsy-looking concern, and had, if I remember rightly, been manufactured by Powell, of London. In justice to the maker, however, I must confess that a man could not possibly wish for a better. While in my possession, many hundred head of large game, to say nothing of a host of bustards, geese, ducks, Guinea-fowl, &c., fell to this piece.
Game was abundant in the neighborhood of Kahichenè’s kraal, and Hans made several successful shots. Very little, however, of what was killed reached us, for the portion not immediately appropriated by the Damaras ultimately found its way to them through the medium of our native servants. In Damara-land the carcasses of all animals, whether wild or domesticated, are considered public property; therefore, unless the natives should share their allowances with every stranger that might choose to intrude himself into their company, a withering “curse” was supposed to befall them. I have seen the flesh of four zebras, that had been shot by our party, brought to the camp in a single day, and the next morning we could not obtain a steak for our breakfast.
The Damaras are the most voracious and improvident creatures in the world. When they have flesh they gorge upon it night and day, and in the most disgusting manner, until not a particle is left; and, as a consequence, they not unfrequently starve for several days together; but they are so accustomed to this mode of living that it has no injurious effect on them.