Thus frustrated in our plans, and having seen and ascertained every thing we could in the country, we at once determined to retrace our steps. However, after what had just fallen from the lips of the chief, it was not without some misgivings that we waited to know his wishes and intentions with regard to our departure. But there was no cause for anxiety. Having squeezed every thing out of us that would have been of any use to him, he was evidently but too well pleased to see us leave his territory, which would relieve him from the necessity of making us any presents. During our stay in Ondonga, all that this royal miser gave us was a small basket of flour; though, on our finally leaving his dominion, he ordered one of his “bread-eaters,” who accompanied us as guide to the frontier, to levy a tribute of corn on his subjects for our behoof; but this largess, at the expense of others, came too late, as we had already laid in a sufficient stock of the staff of life, which we had obtained from the natives by barter.
The 13th of June was fixed for our departure. We were not, however, able to get away till two days later. On the 18th we were fairly out of sight of the fertile plains of Ondonga. Nangoro had originally promised to send our old friend Chikor’onkombè back with us; but the fellow abruptly and treacherously deserted us. This proved of great inconvenience; and it was only by exerting all our ingenuity that we ultimately succeeded in finding our way home. As has been already said, there were no landmarks by which we could steer.
The nights had now become bitterly cold. In crossing the Otjihako-tja-Muteya we were obliged to bivouac on this bleak and exposed plain without a particle of fuel. What with the piercing wind and low temperature, it was one of the most trying nights I remember to have spent in Africa. Indeed, I hardly ever felt the cold more during the most severe Scandinavian winter. Even the cattle were so exceedingly distressed that several of our best draft-oxen never thoroughly recovered. Our poor Damaras suffered fearfully; and it was only by huddling themselves together at the bottom of a dried-up well that they were enabled to keep the least warmth in their bodies. Timbo, however, appeared to be the greatest sufferer. One morning we were amazed at finding his dark, shiny skin suddenly changed into a pale ashy gray.
Owing to the scarcity of water at this time of the year, game was rare. Indeed, we only met with animals, such as the giraffe, the koodoo, the gemsbok, the eland, &c., that either wholly or in great part can do without water.
On the 1st of July, after about a fortnight’s steady travel, we reached our encampment in safety. The two hundred miles of country we had crossed presented, perhaps, as dreary and uninteresting a prospect as can well be imagined.
In our absence, Tjopopa, with his people, left Okamabuti, and removed a few miles farther to the westward. Our men followed his example. On approaching the camp, we espied Hans perched in the top of a tree anxiously looking out for our return. The whole party was almost wild with delight at seeing us safe back, of which they began to despair. They had passed a most dreary time. The natives, though friendly, teased and annoyed them excessively with begging and even pilfering, the chief, as not unfrequently happens, having been the most importunate of the whole lot. Moreover, he had not paid his debt, nor would he sell Hans any more cattle; and, as there was then very little game in the neighborhood, they were so pressed for food that Hans was obliged to reduce the men’s allowances very considerably. Our Damara servants lived for some time solely on such birds and small animals as they could kill by means of the dogs. Fortunately, Hans possessed some tobacco; and, while the natives refused every thing else, he was able to obtain a few sheep for this article, which proved a most opportune supply.
Not many days previous to our arrival eight Damara women had been surprised by the Bushmen and unmercifully put to death. This, however, was not to be wondered at, for the Damaras themselves are always waging an exterminating war on the Bushmen. Indeed, they hunt them down, wherever met with, like wild beasts.
Hans had succeeded in repairing the wagon most satisfactorily; and the oxen, though rather lean, were in tolerably good working order. We now determined to turn our faces homeward without a moment’s delay. A very few days were sufficient to enable us to complete the final preparations.
By this time all the pools of rain-water which had befriended us on our journey northward were dried up, and it would therefore have been impossible to retrace our steps by the same route. The Damaras strongly advised us to strike the Omuramba-k’Omatako at a certain point, and by following its course they assured us we should find water and pasturage in abundance. One man, in particular, who had always shown himself civil and obliging, offered to act as guide the first part of the way; for the remainder we secured the services of a lad professing to be well acquainted with the country. Having on so many occasions been deceived by the natives, we did not much relish the idea of again trusting ourselves to their guidance. However, there was no alternative; and in this instance, to do justice to the men, I must say they not only spoke the truth, but performed their services most satisfactorily.
Without bidding farewell to Tjopopa, who throughout had treated us inhospitably, we yoked our oxen on the 5th of July, and after about three days’ travel arrived in the Omuramba. At this point the river (or rather the river-bed) appeared to cease altogether; but the natives declared that it continued to flow toward the Ovatjona or Matjo’na. I have since ascertained that they alluded to the Bechuana country. Hence we traveled steadily up toward its source. Its bed, which sometimes spread out into a flat, and at others formed a narrow channel, afforded us always a good and open road. The country on both sides was hemmed in by an apparently endless thorn coppice. We usually found water daily, at first in pools, but afterward exclusively in wells, varying in depth from a few feet to as much as forty. These were generally choked up with sand, and it often occupied us half a day to clean them out. I remember, on one occasion, working hard, with a party consisting of about thirty men and women, during upward of twenty hours, before we could obtain a sufficiency of water. It was cold work; for about sunrise the ice was often half an inch thick, and we had no waterproof boots to protect our feet.