The day after this little adventure we continued our journey, and in the afternoon found ourselves safe at the foot of the southern extremity of Omuvereoom, and its sister hill, Ia Kabaka, from which it is only separated by a narrow valley. We “outspanned” at a small vley, where, for the first time, I observed the willow-tree—an agreeable reminiscence of my native land. The water, however, was of the most abominable quality, being apparently much frequented by wild animals, who had converted the pool into something like what we see in a farm-yard.
At this place we had a striking instance of the fearful ravages which termites are capable of committing in an incredibly short time. In the early part of the day after our arrival, Mr. Galton and Hans started on foot, with the intention of ascending Omuvereoom. In consequence of a sudden and distressing pain in my side, I was unable to accompany them, and, in the hope of obtaining a little ease, made a sort of extempore couch on the ground, covering it with a plaid. On rising after a while, I discovered, to my dismay and astonishment, that my bedding had been completely cut to pieces by the destructive insects, and yet, when I first laid down, not one was visible.
Early the next morning we pushed on to a large vley, upward of a mile in length, the finest sheet of standing water we had yet seen in Damara-land. It was swarming with geese and ducks. The vegetation had a very tropical appearance; several—to us—new trees and plants, without thorns, presented themselves, and we began to flatter ourselves that we had at last passed the boundary-line of those thorny woods which had so long and pertinaciously harassed us. In this, however, we were disappointed. The very next day we entered a region far worse than any we had yet seen, which, indeed, bade fair to stop us altogether. Our poor cattle were cruelly lacerated, and it was with the utmost difficulty we succeeded in getting the wagons through. I counted no less than seven distinct species of thorny trees and bushes, each of which was a perfect “Wacht-een-bigte,” or “Wait a little,” as the Dutch colonists very properly call these tormentors. Few individuals have ever traveled in the more northerly parts of Southern Africa without being greeted with a friendly salutation of ‘Stop a little, if you please;’ and fewer still, who have disregarded this gentle hint, ever came away without first paying a forfeit of some part or other of their dress. Indeed, the fish-hook principle on which most of the thorns are shaped, and the strength of each, make them most formidable enemies. At an average, each prickle will sustain a weight of seven pounds. Now, if the reader will be pleased to conceive a few scores of these to lay hold of a man at once, I think it will not be difficult to imagine the consequences. Indeed, on our return to Barmen, after a few months’ absence, I possessed hardly a decent article of clothing; and, had not Mr. Hahn kindly taken pity on my forlorn condition, I am afraid there would soon have been little difference between me and the savages.
In the course of the day we arrived at a magnificent fountain, called Otjironjuba—the Calabash—on the side of Omuvereoom. Its source was situated fully two hundred feet above the base of the mountain, and took its rise from different spots; but, soon uniting, the stream danced merrily down the cliffs. These cascades, falling to the plain below, flowed over a bed of red gravel. A gigantic fig-tree had entwined its roots round the scattered blocks of stone by the side of Otjironjuba fountain, its wide and shady branches affording a delicious retreat during the heat of the noonday sun. It bore an abundance of fruit; but it was not yet the season for figs. Several half-ripe ones that I opened contained a large quantity of small ants, and even wasps. Great caution, therefore, is necessary in eating them.
Otjironjuba was to us a perfect paradise. We enjoyed it the more on account of the marked contrast it presented to the country we had previously traversed.
At the foot of the mountain we discovered the remains of a large Hill-Damara kraal. A considerable extent of land had at one time been carefully cultivated, and a few young calabashes and pumpkins were still seen springing up from the parent stock of the preceding season. The day after our arrival one or two natives came to visit us, and no doubt, also, for the purpose of ascertaining who and what we were. We of course entertained them well, and at parting gave them a few trifling presents, with a request that they would soon return with the remainder of their tribe, in order that we might buy from them some goats, which, from the surrounding evidences, they must have possessed in great numbers. The fresh tracks of a few horned cattle were also to be seen. However, our friends never came back, nor did we encounter any more of the natives.
While sauntering about the place we stumbled upon several deserted Damara villages, and our native servants now told us that, after the late attack on Schmelen’s Hope by Jonker, Kahichenè and his tribe had fled with the remainder of their cattle to this secluded spot; and yet, a short time previously, they had positively asserted that the country was impassable for man and beast! They, moreover, informed us that several bloody fights, or rather massacres, had at that time taken place between the contending parties; and that whenever a man, woman, or child was met, and the deed could be perpetrated with impunity, they were cruelly murdered. These sanguinary outrages were sometimes inflicted, they said, by the Damaras, and at others by the Hill-Damaras.
I climbed to the top of the Omuvereoom, whence I had a very extensive view of the country to the eastward; but, excepting a few periodical water-courses which originated in the sides of the mountain, nothing but an immense unbroken bush was to be seen. It was in vain that I strained my eyes to catch a glimpse of Omanbondè, which we were told lay only about five days’ journey hence, and at the northern extremity of Omuvereoom.