MOBBED FOR SPIRITS.
Page 236.
The entire width of the river was here about sixty yards, but it had a rocky island in the middle, so that practically there were two streams to cross. The current, after the rain, was still so strong that every one seemed to think it would be prudent to delay the passage for a little longer. I did not share the apprehension, but was quite willing to acquiesce in the universal opinion. Under a large acacia, a short distance from where we were waiting, stood a waggon and a couple of huts, which we could see at once were occupied by a white family; some broken wheels, some old iron, and some blacksmith’s tools lying about, betokened the occupation of the owner. He was one of two smiths who resided in the place. He had taken up his quarters here close by the ford, the other having settled near the entrance of the glen, by the mission-station. He complained that the diminution of the population, and the general impoverishment of the place, had seriously interfered with his business; but he had nevertheless succeeded in getting together a goodly herd of sheep and cows. The other smith might have done equally well, but he had spent all his earnings in brandy. Naturally, there was not much good feeling between the rivals.
In answer to our inquiries about the ford, we were told that all the traders, giraffe and ostrich-hunters, missionaries, or any one who wanted to take the shortest cut through Kuruman, crossed by it; but, somehow or other, nearly every third waggon managed more or less to come to grief. The chief was disinclined to do anything to improve the ford; nor, if he had been disposed, would it have been of much good, as the stream, every time it was swollen, brought down such accumulations of sand, soil, and stones, that the character of the channel was perpetually altering.
Acting under the advice of the blacksmith, who pronounced the ford perfectly safe, we crossed in the afternoon, reaching the opposite side without the least difficulty, and after a short rest went on to Taung. Without pausing in the native quarter, we proceeded to the mission-house, a stone building, with a gabled roof thatched with grass, standing in a nice little garden. On entering we found ourselves face to face with a gentleman about thirty years of age, with a long light beard. He looked at us at first with some surprise, especially at my friend F., who was carrying arms. He was the resident missionary, Mr. Brown. I soon introduced myself, and explained the object of my journey, and he at once gave us a very kindly welcome, apologizing for the simplicity and limited extent of his accommodation. He mentioned that he was engaged upon the compilation of a Sechuana dictionary, a work that has since been published. After ascertaining that we intended making a short halt at Taung, he invited me to bring the waggon into his enclosure, saying that I should thus escape being pestered by the natives for brandy. Even Mankuruane himself was often very troublesome to strangers, and the protection of the mission-house would be a shelter from annoyance. Just at present, however, the chief was not at home, having gone to Kuruman on a visit to another chief, named Mora. Mrs. Brown and her children were also at the same place; they had gone to spend a few weeks with the wife of the missionary there. The place altogether was very picturesque, being, both for its pleasantness and for its population, the foremost of all the Batlapin towns. It formerly contained nearly 6000 inhabitants, but by the year 1879 it was not so large by one-third.
We resumed our journey on the afternoon of the 12th. We took a north-north-east course, and at no great distance from the Harts River came to the Barolong kraal, called by the name of its chieftain, Maruma. The excessive rainfall must have been confined to a very limited area; for, although we had had it so heavily, the little river here was quite dry, and there was hardly any water at all to be had except in some holes that had been made for the purpose.
Next mid-day we left the valley, and after a short drive along some stony hills, arrived at a rich tract of pasture-land. Whilst on our halt, I killed a fine bird of prey (Melierax canorus), and a large lizard of the kind which I have before described.
Approaching now the north-eastern frontier of the Batlapin country, I expected soon to enter upon the small territory belonging to the Mamusa Korannas. Turning our course due north on the 14th, we found ourselves on another extensive plain, overgrown with bushes. Several heavy showers fell, and at last induced us to make a halt; but the sight of a number of antelopes darting about among the marethwa-bushes was too tempting to be resisted, and I started out for a chase. This proved a more troublesome matter than I had anticipated. To avoid the bushes, I had to twist my horse about continually; and this I found so discouraging that I thought I might venture to change my tactics, and make a bold dash straight ahead. My horse had hardly begun to bound forward when he came to a sudden pause; failing to leap over a mimosa, he had plunged into the middle of it. I endeavoured to pull him back, but the sharp double thorns ran into him so much the more. The poor creature began to kick violently, and snorting aloud, only got more deeply imbedded in the prickles. My clothes began to suffer considerably in the struggle, and glad enough I was when the horse contrived to extricate its hind-quarters from the bush. I threw my gun upon the ground and managed to alight, and finally to drag the excited animal clear away; but my face, my arms, my neck, even my legs, were all smarting violently; and when I made my way back to the waggon, I was only to be compared to the triumphant hero of a cat-fight. I am not likely to forget my experience of that mimosatree. Nature, like a cruel step-mother, seems to have banished some of the offspring of Flora, unendowed with fragrancy or honey, to the desert wilds of Africa, where they take their revenge on any unoffending mortals that come within their reach.
