Elephants occasionally visited this neighborhood, and even breed near a fountain somewhat farther to the northward.
After having spent a couple of days very pleasantly at Otjironjuba fountain, we for a short time followed the course of the rivulet which has its rise there; but it was soon lost in a marsh.
On the second day of our departure we came, unobserved, upon a few Bushmen, engaged in digging for wild roots, and succeeded in capturing a man and woman, whom, with some difficulty, we persuaded to show us the water. The dialect of these people was so different to any we had yet heard, that, notwithstanding our two excellent interpreters, we could with difficulty understand them. However, by a good deal of cross-questioning, we managed to make out that they had both been to Omanbondè, which they called Saresab; that the “water was as large as the sky,” and that hippopotami existed there. The man, moreover, said that he would conduct us to the lake; but this was only a ruse, for in the course of the night both he and his wife absconded.
Our doubts and anxiety increased as we approached nearer and nearer the inland sea, and all our thoughts were concentrated in the single idea of the lake. The Bushman’s story of the water being “as large as the sky” wrought greatly on our expectation.
“Well, Andersson, what should you suppose this lake’s greatest length to be, eh?” said Galton. “Surely it can not cover less than fifteen miles anyhow; and as for its breadth, it is, no doubt, very considerable, for the Hottentots declare that if you look at a man from the opposite shore he appears no bigger than a crow.”
It would have been well for us had we been less sanguine.
As we journeyed on a course somewhat parallel with Omuvereoom, we fell in with a sort of vley river—if river it could be called, since it consisted alternately of dry, open spaces and deep gulleys. Both banks of this peculiar water-course were hemmed in by one vast thorn-jungle, which seemed to defy the passage of man or beast. It was doubly fortunate, therefore, that we met this river, as its sides served as a good and open road, while a plentiful supply of water was afforded by the occasional pools. It was here, at last, that we arrived at some Damara villages, on the fifth day after leaving Otjironjuba. At first the natives tried to run away; but we captured a few women, which soon induced the men to return. These people had never before seen a white man; and our sudden appearance, therefore, created no small astonishment, not to say consternation. But of all our property, nothing amused them more than the sight of a looking-glass. On finding that the mirror faithfully reflected the smallest of their motions or gesticulations, they became convulsed with laughter; and some of them were so excited as to throw themselves on the ground, pressing their hands against their stomachs. Others would approach with their faces to the glass as close as they could, then suddenly turn it round, fully expecting somebody at its back. It is a great pity that the Damaras are such unmitigated scoundrels, for they are full of fun and merriment. Give them a “yard of meat” and a bucket of water, and they are the happiest creatures on the face of the earth.
After some parleying, a man agreed to guide us to the lake. An afternoon’s farther traveling brought us to a second werft, the captain of which was the jolliest and the most amusing Damara that we ever saw before or since. He mimicked the figure and the actions of the hippopotamus so admirably that we should never have mistaken the animal, even had we not known a word of the language. He also gave us an amusing and laughable account of the people to the north.
One day more, and the goal of our hopes and anxieties would be realized! We carefully examined our Mackintosh punt to see that it was sound, as we fully purposed to spend a few weeks on the shores of Omanbondè, in order to enjoy some fishing and shooting.
By this time we had lost sight of Omuvereoom, which gradually dwindled into a mere sand-ridge, and was now identified with the plain. The vley river just mentioned, which had so long befriended us, we also left behind, and were now traveling across a very sandy tract of country. Fortunately, though the bushes were very thick, only a few were thorny. Moreover, their wood, which was quite new to us, was of so brittle a nature that, although trees from five to six inches in diameter repeatedly obstructed our path, our ponderous vehicles crushed them to the ground like so many rotten sticks. A European can form no conception of the impracticable country one has to travel over in these parts, and the immense difficulties that must be surmounted. To give a faint idea of the obstructions of this kind of traveling, we will suppose a person suddenly placed at the entrance of a primeval forest of unknown extent, never trodden by the foot of man, the haunt of savage beasts, and with soil as yielding as that of an English sand-down; to this must be added a couple of ponderous vehicles, as large as the coal-vans met with in the streets of London, only a great deal stouter, to each of which are yoked sixteen or twenty refractory, half-trained oxen. Let him then be told, “Through yonder wood lies your road; nothing is known of it. Make your way as well as you can; but remember, your cattle will perish if they do not get water in the course of two or three days.”