Seen from the right bank of the river, the town, with its groups of farmsteads arranged symmetrically in rows, looked very neat. The streets, as the open spaces between the enclosures might be called, were full of life; women were hastening down to the water with great clay pitchers on their heads, or toiling along towards their homes breathless under loads of dried grass or brushwood; while children, all naked, were either tending the cattle in the pasture-land, or playing in swarms upon the river’s edge. To the activity and plodding industry of the women, the dolce far niente of the men offered a striking contrast; as a general rule, they were to be seen idly basking in the sun, like snakes recovering from the exertion of swallowing their last meal.
The jackets and stockings of many of the men were of European make, but some of them had garments of leather, imperfectly tanned; on their heads they had small hats, made of plaited grass or rushes. They were mostly of middle height, neither so tall as the Zulus, nor so powerfully built as the Fingos, their complexions striking me as remarkably clear and bright. Their features are spoilt by the excessive width of the nose—a disfigurement which is to be attributed very much to the use of an iron spoon for the purposes of a pocket-handkerchief. Most justly they deserved their general reputation for idleness, as, in spite of the natural fertility of their country, they took scarcely any trouble to cultivate cereals, and rarely had any transactions at the Kimberley market.
In a moral point of view, the late war between the English and the Batlaros, a kindred tribe of the Batlapins, has had a very beneficial effect. Previously, especially at the time of the first discovery of the river-diggings, the arrogance of Yantje’s demands knew no bounds; and his people were encouraged to make such repeated encroachments into the province, that the British rule on the Vaal River was never perfectly settled. The English victory, however, brought all these disturbances to an end.
After leaving the outskirts of Yantje’s town we found ourselves in a part of the Harts valley which was much more lonely, there being no other native settlements of any importance for some considerable distance. The two next are Taung and Mamusa. Taung, not unfrequently retaining its name of Mahura’s Town, after a former governor, is about seventy miles from the mouth of the river, and is the residence of an independent Batlapin chief, Mankuruane. Mamusa, the abode of an independent Koranna chief, is another forty miles higher up the river. I did not visit it on this journey, but I was told that the chief’s name was Mashon, that he was called Taibush by the Boers, and that he was a very old man—some saying that he was 112, others even asserting that he was 130 years of age.
Between Likatlong and Mamusa there are numerous insignificant native villages, nine out of ten of them being occupied by Batlapins; though above Taung there are several belonging to the Barolong people, the Korannas appearing only eastward of Mamusa. With the exception of the Koranna villages, they are generally found either on, or only just below the summit of the heights adjoining the river, and rarely contain more than eight farmsteads. Amongst the very few that lie in the valley is Mitzima, the largest of all, containing about thirty huts. The fields and gardens belonging to the people lie partly in the valley and partly on the hillsides, the crops being kaffir-corn, maize, and sugar-cane, which grows seven or eight feet in height.
All along our way up the Harts valley the numerous defiles crossing our path had compelled us to make many deviations that involved considerable loss of time. We were halting for rest, not many miles from Likatlong, when we were visited by an old man and a youth, who wanted to do a little business with the “makoa,” white man. The high prices that they demanded for their goods greatly surprised me, until I found that the natives even of these parts had learnt the value of English money.
As we went on we had several good chances of sport in the woods and long grass of the valley, and in the bushes by the river-banks. Near the river we found four different kinds of bustards, the two smaller sorts congregating in flocks; the two larger, one of which was of unusual size, rising from the bushes in pairs; and, near the thorns, we saw several pairs of the great cape-partridge scratching up the ground. Sand-grouse, too, were basking on the sandy spots by the shore and on the slopes; the reedy places being haunted by wild ducks, of which we secured a plentiful supply. On the more open spots, where the river was overhung by mimosas, the lovely weaver-birds, yellow, with a black spot on the throat, had stripped off the leaves from the ends of the branches, and replaced them by their wonderful nests, that hung suspended like some curious fruit.
These nests were about four or five inches long, and were constructed in the shape of an elliptic cone, the small end of which was attached to the bough, the transverse diameter being between two and three inches in length. The aperture, on the flat side of the nest, underneath, was crescent-shaped, and only just large enough to admit one bird at a time. The material was blades of grass, collected fresh and pliant, and so cunningly woven together as to give the finished work all the appearance of the best-skilled art. The construction of the nests was so firm that they would defy the most violent storms, but yet they were hung so delicately that the gentlest breeze would put them in motion. As they swayed to and fro they made the prettiest of reflections in the mirror of the peaceful stream, darkened already by its carpet of tender water-plants—a picture rendered still more striking when one of the bright little birds would issue from its home, and, hovering about, would seem to add the radiancy of some sparkling gem. The birds themselves did not show any timidity, and towards evening we found that we could take them in their nests, any that we had startled soon flying back and settling down in patient curiosity to watch our movements.
NESTS OF WEAVER-BIRDS.