Besides the ordinary morning-markets, public auctions are held on all days except holidays in halls erected for the purpose; and in the evenings, sales of articles not included in the usual routine of business are carried on in the canteens, to which purchasers are invited by announcements on large placards, notifying that drink will be distributed gratis during the proceedings.
In former years, the majority of the canteens were shocking dens of vice, forming the worst feature of the district; latterly, however, there has been a considerable diminution in their number. The wells that have been made in various parts of the streets, and in the outskirts of the settlements, have been an inestimable boon, and the throngs that ever surround them show how highly they are appreciated. The water is drawn up in buckets by Kaffirs, or by horses; it is sold, not given away, and many hundreds of pounds are readily expended for the supply of that which is as indispensable for the diamond-washing as for the common offices of life.
A residence in the diamond-fields undoubtedly has various inconveniences, but nothing is so trying as the atmosphere. Every day during the dry winter season, lungs, eyes, and ears are painfully distressed by the storms of dust that impregnate the air with every conceivable kind of filth, which, penetrating the houses, defiles (if it does not destroy) everything on which it rests. The workers in the diggings, the drivers of waggons, and all whose occupations keep them long in the open air, are especially sufferers from this cause.
Nor is the summer much less unpleasant. During the rainy season the country is flooded by the violent downpour; the rain often fills up the shallow brack-pan (one of the salt lakes that dry up every year, lying in a depression about half a mile long at the south end of Dutoitspan, in a single day; and as the immediate consequence, the streets of Kimberley become so deluged that the traffic is impeded, and foot passengers can only with difficulty proceed at all. The new corporation has endeavoured to remedy this difficulty by laying down gutters, and taking other measures for draining the thoroughfares.
For a few days’ recreation at Christmas, 1872, I agreed to go on an excursion, baboon hunting, on the neighbouring hills in the west of the Orange Free State—the party consisting, besides myself, of a young German merchant, who found more opportunity for such diversion here than at home; a young Pole from Posen, whose mere love of adventure had brought him to the diamond-fields; and a Fingo, engaged to carry our baggage, and whose burden kept him in a perpetual vapour-bath. The Pole and myself were both duly equipped in proper hunting-costume.
I was very anxious to make myself acquainted with the animal-world on the hills that bounded the eastern horizon; and, having visited my patients, and ascertained that they could dispense with my services for a short time, I started off from Dutoitspan early in the afternoon of Christmas Eve. Involuntarily the memories of former Christmas Eves rose up within my mind, and I could not help comparing the past with the present, contrasting the festivities of the cheerful room, well warmed to defy the wintry rigour, with the tropical glow of an African sun, where not a single external circumstance recalled an association with the season.
Our way led at first across a plain covered with dwarf bushes, few of them exceeding eighteen inches high. Here and there, in depressions of the soil, were patches of soft green turf, long grass only growing upon higher and more rocky places.
All over the wide flats were innumerable swarms of insects, of which several species of locusts especially attracted our notice. Some of these were very beautiful in colour, and were armed with a kind of projecting shield. Varying from two to three inches in length, their cylindrical bodies were either of light or dark green, the wing-sheaths being bordered with red. In quite a sluggish condition thousands of them had settled on the milk-bushes (Euphorbiaceæ), and the least touch made them fall to the ground, apparently lifeless. On my journey from Port Elizabeth I had wondered how it was that the locusts, subject to the attacks of almost countless enemies of the feathered tribe, from the eagle to the wild duck, should venture so constantly to settle in the most exposed parts of the bushes; and I now solved the mystery by discovering through my sense of smell that they eject a most offensive fluid, the disgusting odour of which we had the greatest difficulty in removing from our hands even after a thorough scrubbing with sand.
Besides the locusts, we found several kinds of beetles—some sand-beetles, two large ground-beetles, and a leaf-beetle that gleamed amidst the foliage with a metallic sheen. The small variety of the vegetation, and its scorched-up condition, was quite enough to explain the entire absence of butterflies, although moths of many kinds were present to supply their place.
We saw hardly any quadrupeds. Excepting some great shrew-mice, we came across nothing but a bright red rodent (Rhyzæna) and a ground-squirrel. These were sitting up on their hind quarters, close to the aperture of their underground retreats; only waiting a moment, as if to scrutinize the new comers, they made off with all speed, the Rhyzæna grunting softly, the squirrel giving a shrill, sharp whistle.