At night we bivouacked on the southern extremity of a boundless savanna, called Otjihako-tja-Muteya, totally destitute of trees, and even bushes. The natives were unable to give us an idea of its real extent; but, as far as we could learn, it reached to the sea on the west. Like Etosha, it had distinct and wooded borders.
The second of June will ever be remembered by us. On the afternoon of that day we first set eye on the beautiful and fertile plains of Ondonga, the country of the Ovambo. Vain would be any attempt to describe the sensations of delight and pleasure experienced by us on that memorable occasion, or to give an idea of the enchanting panoramic scene that all at once opened on our view. Suffice it to say that, instead of the eternal jungles, where every moment we were in danger of being dragged out of our saddles by the merciless thorns, the landscape now presented an apparently boundless field of yellow corn, dotted with numerous peaceful homesteads, and bathed in the soft light of a declining tropical sun. Here and there, moreover, arose gigantic, wide-spreading, and dark-foliaged timber and fruit trees, while innumerable fan-like palms, either singly or in groups, completed the picture. To us it was a perfect elysium, and well rewarded us for every former toil and disappointment. My friend, who had traveled far and wide, confessed he had never seen any thing that could be compared to it. Often since have I conjured up to my imagination this scene, and have thought it might not inaptly be compared to stepping out of a hot, white, and shadowless road into a park fresh with verdure, and cool with the umbrage cast down by groups of reverend trees.
The first dwelling that lay in our path was that of old Naitjo, one of the chief men of our trading caravan, who, after having feasted us on such fare as the country produced (among which was a dish of hot dough steeped in melted butter), conducted us over his extensive establishment, comprising his harem, his children, granaries, and so forth. Timbo was in ecstasies with the country and its hospitable inhabitants, and declared that it was as like as two peas to his own native land.
Another hour’s travel brought us to the residence of our guide Chikor’onkombè, where we remained two nights and a day to rest our weary animals. Poor creatures! they had had no water for two entire days, and the consequence was that during the first night they broke out of the inclosures and strayed far away in search of it.
On the 4th we again set forward. The aspect of the country was still characterized by the greatest abundance, and the trees became even more numerous.
Nearly all produced edible fruit, though some were not yet ripe. The trees, moreover, were on a grander scale than heretofore. One kind in particular—that mentioned as bearing a fruit somewhat resembling an apple—attained to a most astonishing size. Indeed, the branches of one that we measured spread over a space of ground one hundred and forty-four feet in diameter, or four hundred and thirty-two in circumference!
The palms growing hereabout—the stems of which, before they began to branch out, often rose to fifty and sixty feet—were, to all appearance, of the same kind as that we had seen about two hundred miles to the southward; but the fruit proved very good. When slightly soaked in water—which, by-the-by, is the best way of eating it—it tasted precisely like gingerbread.
There appeared to be no roads of any description. Fortunately, however, the harvest had just been completed, or nearly so, and without damage to the owners we were therefore enabled to cross the fields as the crow flies.
Two different kinds of grain we found indigenous to this country, viz., the common Caffre-corn, said to resemble the Egyptian “doura,” and another sort, very small grained, not unlike canary-seed, and akin, I believe, to the “badjera” of India. This is the more nutritious of the two, and, when well ground, produces excellent flour.