Dry as the basin of Omanbondè then was, it nevertheless appeared evident that, at no distant period, it had contained a good deal of water. Moreover, there could be but little doubt as to hippopotami having also, at one time, existed there.
On becoming better acquainted with the geography of these regions, we thought we were able to explain the phenomenon satisfactorily. Thus, for instance, from (or to?) the deep, trough-shaped basin of Omanbondè leads a peculiar water-course, in an easterly direction, called Omuramba-[21]k’Omanbondè, consisting of a succession of immense gulleys, very similar to Omanbondè itself. These (after being in a short time joined by the Omuramba-k’Omatako) we supposed to be connected with some large permanent water, abounding with hippopotami. In seasons when rains are plentiful, these troughs or gulleys fill, and, no doubt, retain the water from one rainy period to another, which enables the animals to travel at their ease to Omanbondè. Indeed, by similar omurambas they have found their way even as far south as Schmelen’s Hope. According to Jonker Afrikaner’s account, a hippopotamus had taken up its abode at this place, but was at last killed by a sudden inundation of the Swakop. The carcass was washed up at the mouth of the Tjobis, where he saw its remains.
On a first look at Damara-land, an inexperienced person would “as soon expect,” as Mr. Galton says, “a hippopotamus to have traveled across the great Sahara as from Omanbondè to Tjobis.” The fact, however, is, that this country, after heavy rains, differs as much from its normal state as a sea-beach when dry and when at spring-tide.
Little or no rain had fallen this year at Omanbondè, and, consequently, it presented a very dreary and uninteresting appearance. In its bed, however, we discovered several wells, which, together with numerous remains of Damara villages, clearly indicated that the so-called lake was, at times, largely resorted to by the natives.
The vegetation remained precisely as hitherto, but the thorn coppices were, if possible, thicker and more harassing. The monotony of the scene was somewhat relieved by clumps of very fine kameel thorn-trees.
Game was rather scarce, yet I managed to bag a few red bucks (pallahs) and koodoos. Tracks of giraffes, rhinoceroses, and elephants were by no means uncommon, but I never had the good fortune to fall in with any of these animals.
Furious battles are said to take place occasionally between the two last-named; and though, of course, strength in the elephant is infinitely superior to the rhinoceros, the latter, on account of his swiftness and sudden movements, is by no means a despicable antagonist. Indeed, instances are known where they have perished together. At Omanbondè, we were told that a combat of this kind occurred not long before our arrival. A rhinoceros, having encountered an elephant, made a furious dash at him, striking his long sharp horn into the belly of his antagonist with such force as to be unable to extricate himself, and in his fall the elephant crushed his assailant to death.
In sauntering one day about the neighborhood of Omanbondè, Galton suddenly found himself confronted by a lion, which seems terribly to have terrified him; and he candidly tells us that, being only armed with a small rifle, he would “much rather have viewed him at a telescopic distance.”
As soon as we had somewhat recovered from our bitter disappointment, we began seriously to consider our situation, and to consult on our future plans. Once more we were without a definite object. Should we return, or push boldly forward? At one time my friend entertained thoughts of going no farther; in which case, though it was probable we might reach home in safety, it was very certain we should reap but little credit for what had been done. On the other hand, by continuing to travel northward, we exposed ourselves to much risk and danger. From experience, we were aware that, to accomplish even a comparatively short distance in our very slow mode of traveling, months would elapse. In that time, all the pools and vleys which now contained water would probably be dried up. This would be certain destruction to ourselves and cattle. Besides this, our men were disheartened, and wished to return. However, in that respect there would be less difficulty, as they were now nearly as much dependent on us as we on them, inasmuch as a broad tract of wild, inhospitable country separated us from the nearest point of civilization.
From Jonker Afrikaner and various other sources of information, we had already learned that at a considerable distance to the north there lived a nation called Ovambo, who had much intercourse with the Damaras, with whom they bartered cattle for iron-ware. They were a people, moreover, of agricultural habits, having permanent dwellings, and were reported to be industrious and strictly honest. The Damaras spoke in raptures of their hospitality and friendliness toward strangers, and represented them as a very numerous and powerful nation, ruled by a single chief or king named Nangoro, who, to their notions, was a perfect giant in size. With regard to the distance to this country, they gave us the same wild, conflicting, and unsatisfactory accounts as those we received about the position of Omanbondè. A variety of circumstances at last induced us, let the consequence be whatever it might, to attempt to reach this interesting land.