On the evening of the next day, just as the sun was beginning to set behind the Free State shore of the Vaal, a little Batlapin boy, who was tending a lot of goats on the plain, told us that the river was close behind some hills to which he pointed. Looking in that direction we soon caught sight of the huts used by the cowherds who were in charge of Gassibone’s cattle.
Beyond a question, the Vaal is one of the most treacherous rivers in South Africa; its banks almost to the very middle of the channel are so soft and slippery, that draught-animals going to drink are liable to sink so deep into the mud that it is impossible to extricate them; in such cases they have been known to die of starvation. Accidents of this kind are especially likely to occur with the aged beasts which, having got knocked-up on the way, are left behind to await their owner’s return; this, if he has gone on a business journey, is occasionally delayed for months. I have myself experienced some mischances arising from this condition of the margin of the river.
My people lost no time in going to find out where the Batlapin cattle went to drink, and while they were making their investigation, I took my gun and strolled down towards the water’s edge. It was getting dusk, and I was desirous, if I could, to shoot some wild fowl for supper. In order to make as little noise as possible, I walked on tiptoe over the firmer parts of the shore, and whenever the trailing branches obstructed my path, I stooped down gently to remove them. Before long there was a sudden cackling on my left, followed by a sonorous flapping of wings, and two of the wild geese (Chenalopex) of which I was in search were making their escape down the river. I dropped upon my knee, prepared to fire, but all at once the feeling came upon me that to break the charming sweetness of the scene by the noise of a shot was almost like a desecration. The placid waters of the stream stretched out towards the west, forming a gleaming zone of beauty; the light of a distant hut came sparkling through the gloom; it could not be otherwise than that, in such association, my memory should recall the picture of another stream, in another land, far away, where I had dreamily passed many and many an evening fishing, and when the light of the window within view had sparkled with the welcome of home. I could not help asking myself whether it was not possible even then that loving parents were thinking of the wanderer who was thinking of them. I was by no means saddened at my reverie; I did not for a moment doubt of a happy return; but I became absorbed in my thoughts, and sat pondering on the past for an hour or more, until the trees on the opposite shore had become obscured in the gathering shades of night.
Darkness had so come on that I had no little difficulty in retracing my way to the waggon. I gave my head a succession of thumps against the projecting boughs of the willows, and kept stumbling over their protruding roots; but I held on my road. Ever and again there was some strange and startling noise; first a herd of monkeys, which had been resting on the tree-tops, disturbed by the owls, would break out into a frantic clamour that would gradually die away into weak and single notes; and then a great water-iguana (Polydædalus) that had been lurking on the bank in search of mice, after creeping noiselessly to the brim of the water, would plunge in with a sudden splash.
These iguanas are huge lizards, over five feet long, that generally select their habitat by water which, if not always running, at least flows periodically; they are found quite as often near human habitations as they are in the desert. Their bite is not dangerous to anything that is too large for them to devour, but they have such singular power in their long tails and in their claws, that they are able to catch many aquatic as well as land animals. Motionless as logs, with their eyes continually opening and shutting, their dark brown scaly bodies, striped with green and yellow, being of a colour to escape detection, they will for hours await the appearance of their prey with scarcely a sign of animation. Their food consists of frogs, mice, insects, or any animals up to the size of a rat, or any birds not larger than a hen.
It has been said that they are fond of the crabs that are commonly to be found in South Africa, but I am inclined to think that it is only failure of other food that induces them to drag these crustaceans from their holes, although I have seen such an accumulation of the shells as serves to show that a great many crabs may be necessary to make an iguana’s meal. No doubt they are immensely partial to eggs; and so pertinaciously do they visit hen-roost after hen-roost, that by mutual consent the tenants of the farmsteads combine in declaring war against them. At the mission-station at Limkana, on the Matebe, my attention was called to the way in which, to gratify this predilection, they will climb up trees in search of nests, after the manner of the land-iguanas, which never frequent the water at all. From the southern coast to the Marutse district I found the water species everywhere. In streams infested by crocodiles they live in the rapids, which the crocodiles avoid.
In general appearance the land-iguana is similar to the Polydædalus, but it is broader, more unwieldy, and has a shorter tail. It is found on plains, both bare and grassy, in rocky districts, in bushes, and in the forests. It lives upon small birds, mice, rats, centipedes, and many insects, but its favourite food is birds’ eggs. Ordinarily it chooses its abode at the top of a tree, and at the approach of danger will clamber rapidly to its elevated retreat, and lie concealed along one of the boughs; if it should be on the ground, it will creep into a deserted burrow, or failing this, it will stretch itself out as if lifeless; but only touch it, and every symptom of inanimation vanishes; it will start up, develope its full length hiss like a cat, and crawl along on the tips of its claws, its form, that appeared thick and stumpy as it was shrinking on the ground, becoming in an instant lanky and thin as a skeleton. In the abdomen of this pachysaurian there is found a collection of lobulated fatty matter, in which some of the native tribes put great faith as a remedy for certain diseases.
It was very close upon midnight when I found my way back to my people in the waggon; they had been far too uneasy at my prolonged absence to lie down to rest.
A bath in the Vaal was the first business next morning, after which we started in a north-eastward course for the Transvaal. In two hours, a much shorter time than I had reckoned on, we came within sight of several erections on the right; one of these was a long building made of tiles, and covered with iron; another, apparently in danger of tumbling down, had been constructed of lath and plaster; the third was of bricks, with a flat roof. These, with a couple of tents, and thirteen Koranna huts, were all that in 1873 existed of the most westerly town in the Republic, which afterwards, during the disturbances in Gassibone’s district, and amongst the neighbouring Korannas, became known as Christiana.
Since that time Christiana has changed greatly for the better, and at present is almost as important a town as Bloemhof, which in 1876 included at least thirty houses. Independently of its favourable position on the direct road between Griqualand West and the Transvaal, it has made a rapid development through the exertions of its chief magistrate, whose acquaintance I had subsequently the pleasure of making. It speaks well for the able way in which this officer maintained his difficult position with the contiguous unruly tribes, that on the annexation of the Transvaal by the English he was allowed to retain his post.