Meanwhile the Hottentots kept up their reputation for laziness and deceit; our gang was never full—except of honey beer—which they made from a big haul of wild honey that they had made in the rocks just before our arrival, and on which they got gloriously drunk every day. They plundered our stores in our absence from the camp, and we were obliged to take turn about in remaining there; kind treatment was taken advantage of, and when we simply had to sjambok them they ran away. Moreover, those who did work clamoured for fresh meat, and this we could not obtain except from their drunken old headman, Klaas Fredericks, who asked prices out of all reason. Once or twice after a big drink these thieving, poaching scoundrels came to the camp in the evening and demanded tobacco, etc., and became threatening when we refused, but the sight of a couple of rifles always stopped them. Still, there was very little chance of doing much under such conditions, and so exasperated did we become that we should have welcomed an open outbreak by the brutes, which would have given us an opportunity for a lesson in the shape of a few bullets. Our nearest policeman was at least five days away—and we had no horses. To add to our annoyance, the river rose again with startling rapidity, until it threatened to burst through an old channel behind our tent and completely maroon us. That this had happened before was amply evident, as many of the larger thorn-trees showed traces of having been more than once almost completely under water.
PACKING THE CART FOR THE JOURNEY.
DUMPED WITH MY BELONGINGS IN THE DESERT WHILST THE OXEN WERE DRIVEN ON TO SAVE THEM FROM DYING OF THIRST.
Moreover, the intense heat, hard work, and hard living had told on both of us, and on more than one occasion we were down with fever at the same time; and we were deaf and nearly blind with quinine and mosquitoes.
Still, we did not like to strike camp, but one day, after both of us had been queer with fever, it occurred to us that we should be in a very bad plight indeed if we got too ill to get about, for the Hottentots would be more likely to rob us than help us! We therefore attempted to make a raft, so that if need be we could get across the river to the Germans, from whence at intervals there was communication with the outside world.
A boat would have been better, but that was out of the question, so we contrived a curious arrangement in the shape of a T of tree-trunks, at the three extremities of which were lashed a couple of small water-casks and an empty oil-drum. The whole thing was tied together with rope, wire string, and ruimpjes, and we also contrived a couple of crutches as rowlocks and a pair of sculls. We found when it was finished that the only way to float on it was with our legs in the water, and the first time we ventured across it appeared highly probable that the current would take us into the rapids before we got to the German bank; but we got across somehow, and felt that we were no longer in danger of being marooned.
Afterwards we went across on several occasions, and always received courtesy and civil treatment from the German police. These police were a military body and were all picked men, only soldiers who had attained the rank of sergeant in the Imperial Army being eligible. Their quarters were extremely comfortable, and they were well and regularly supplied with rations by camel transport from the far-distant railway at Aus. They had all sorts of queer pets—baboons, monkeys, and various kinds of wild-cats caught in the dense bush of the river-bank.
The post, built well back from the river, commanded a fine view of all the approaches to the Drift on the British side; they had a deep well close at hand, which made them independent of the latter, and a pleasant feature was an experimental garden, where all manner of plants, both African and European, were being grown in the prolific Orange silt.