The direction of his course lay along the eastern coast, towards the country of the Kaffers. At intervals the houses of colonists, with their orchards and plantations, appeared; but they became thinner as he advanced, while the woods and general scenery increased in magnificence; and the troops of wild animals, such as the zebra and the antelope, which stretched themselves out like armies on the plain, became strikingly more numerous and of more frequent occurrence. “We likewise,” says the traveller, “saw several ostriches; and the variety and the movements of these vast hordes were particularly amusing. My dogs fiercely pursued all these different species of animals, which, mingling together in their flight, often formed but one enormous column. This confusion, however, like that of theatrical machines, lasted but for a moment. I recalled my dogs, and in an instant each animal had regained his own herd, which constantly kept at a certain distance from all the others.” Among these animals were the blue antelope, the rarest and most beautiful of all the known species of gazelle.
The habits of a small kind of tortoise, which afforded them the materials of various feasts during this part of the journey, are very remarkable. When the great heats of summer arrive, and dry up the ponds in which they pass the winter, they descend into the earth in search of humidity, deeper and deeper in proportion as the sun penetrates farther and farther into the soil. In this position they remain plunged in a kind of lethargy until the return of the rainy season; but those who require them for food may always, by digging, discover an ample supply. Their eggs, which they lay on the brink of the small lakes and ponds which they inhabit, and abandon to be hatched by the sun, are about the size of those of the pigeon, and extremely good eating.
Le Vaillant was careful as he went along to augment his followers, both rational and irrational. He hired several new Hottentots, and purchased a number of oxen, with a milch-cow, and some she-goats, whose milk he foresaw might be an important possession in various circumstances. He likewise purchased a cock to awake him in the morning, and a monkey, which, besides serving as an almost unerring taster, his instinct enabling him immediately to distinguish such fruits and herbs as were innoxious and wholesome from such as were hurtful, was a still better watchman even than the dog, as the slightest noise, the most distant sign of danger, instantly awakened his terrors, and, by the cries and gestures of fear which it extorted from him, put his master upon his guard.
Thus accompanied, he continued his journey towards the east, until his progress was stopped by the Dove’s River, upon the banks of which he determined to encamp until the decrease of its waters should render it fordable. His mode of life, which the hospitable invitations of the neighbouring colonists, to whom the sight of a stranger was like a spring in the desert, were not suffered to interrupt, was exceedingly agreeable. “I regulated,” says he, “the employment of my time, which was usually spent in the following manner:—At night, when not travelling, I slept in my wagon or in my tent; awakened by the break of day by my cock, my first business was to prepare my coffee, while the Hottentots, on their part, were busied about the cattle. As soon as the sun appeared I took my fowlingpiece, and, setting out with my monkey, beat about the neighbourhood until ten o’clock. On returning to my tent, I always found it well swept and clean. The superintendence of this part of my economy had been confided to the care of an old African whose name was Swanspoel, who, not being able to follow us in our rambles, was intrusted with the government of the camp, and invariably maintained it in good order. The furniture of my tent was not very abundant; a camp-stool or two, a table appropriated to the dissection of my animals, and a few instruments required in their preparation constituted the whole of its ornaments. From ten o’clock until twelve I was employed in my tents, classing in my drawers the insects I had found. I then dined. Placing upon my knees a small board covered with a napkin, a single dish of roasted or broiled meat was served up. After this frugal meal I returned to my work, if I had left any thing unfinished, and then amused myself with hunting until sunset. I then retired to my tent, lighted a candle, and spent an hour or two in describing my discoveries or the events of the day in my journal. Meanwhile, the Hottentots were employed in collecting the cattle, and penning them around the tents and wagons. The she-goats, as soon as they had been milked, lay down here and there among the dogs. Business being over, and the customary great fire kindled, we gathered together in a circle. I then took my tea; my people joyously smoked their pipes, and for my amusement related stories, the humorous absurdity of which almost made me crack my sides with laughter. I delighted to encourage them, and they were by no means timid with me, as I was careful to treat them with frankness, cordiality, and attention. On many occasions, in fact, when the beauty of the evening succeeding the fatigues of the day had put me in good-humour with myself and with every thing about me, I involuntarily yielded to the spell, and gently cherished the illusion. At such moments every one disputed with his neighbour for the honour of amusing me by his superior wit; and by the profound silence which reigned among us, the able story-teller might discover how highly we appreciated his art. I know not what powerful attraction continually leads my memory back to those peaceful days! I still imagine myself in the midst of my camp, surrounded by my people and my animals; an agreeable site, a mountain, a tree,—nay, even a plant, a flower, or a fragment of rock scattered here and there,—nothing escapes from my memory; and this spectacle, which daily grows more and more affecting, amuses me, follows me into all places, and has often made me forget what I have suffered from men who call themselves civilized.”
Provisions were plentiful; partridges as large as pheasants, and two kinds of antelopes, whose flesh was tender and nourishing. The colonists of the vicinity, rendered generous by abundance, gratuitously furnished him with an ample provision of milk, fruit, and vegetables, which the traveller shared with his monkey and his Hottentots. From this position, however, he was at length, by the shrinking of the river, enabled to remove; and, continuing to pursue his route in the same direction as before, he crossed several diminutive streams, and arrived on the banks of the river Gaurits, where, the stream not being fordable, he encamped for three days among groves of mimosa-trees. Perceiving no sign of abatement in the waters, he then constructed a raft, upon which his wagons and baggage were ferried over, while the oxen and other animals swam across.
His road during this part of the journey lay at no great distance from the sea, which therefore communicated a refreshing coolness to the breezes, presented him at intervals with magnificent prospects, and at the same time administered pabulum to his passion for shooting, its solitary margin affording a retreat to thousands of flamingoes and pelicans. His animals, meanwhile, fared luxuriously. The soil throughout these districts was remarkable for its fertility; but a small canton, a little to the east of Mossel Bay, called the country of the Auteniquas, surpassed in beauty and magnificence all the landscapes of southern Africa. Having with considerable toil ascended to the summit of a mountain, “we were well repaid,” says Le Vaillant, “for the fatigue which we had undergone. Our admiration was excited by the loveliest country in the world. In the distance appeared the chain of mountains covered with forests, which bounded the prospect on the west; beneath our feet the eye wandered over an immense valley, the aspect of which was diversified by hillocks, infinitely varied in form, and descending in wavy swells towards the sea. Richly enamelled meadows and splendid pasture-grounds still further increased the beauty of this magnificent landscape. I was literally in ecstasy. This country bears the name of Auteniquas, which, in the Hottentot idiom, signifies ‘the man laden with honey;’ and, in fact, we could not proceed a single step without beholding a thousand swarms of bees. The flowers grew in myriads, and the mingled perfume which exhaled from them, and deliciously intoxicated the senses, their colours, their variety, the cool pure air which we breathed, every thing united to arrest our footsteps. Nature has bestowed the charms of fairy-land upon this spot. Almost every flower was filled with exquisite juices, and furnished the bees with abundant materials for the fabrication of their honey, which they deposited in every hollow rock and tree.”
This description, which no doubt falls far short of the reality—for what language can equal the beauties of nature?—reminds me strongly of Spenser’s noble picture of the Gardens of Adonis. Poetry itself, however, with all its metaphors and picturesque expressions, is faint and dim compared with the splendour of a summer landscape, where earth, air, and sea unite their rich hues and sublime aspect to entrance and dazzle the eye. But our old bard, whom no man ever excelled in minute painting of inanimate nature, contrives, by careful and repeated touches, to unfold before the imagination an exquisite view. “There,” says he, speaking of the gardens of the Assyrian youth,
“There is continual spring, and harvest there
Continual, both meeting at one time:
For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear