When Sekhomi, the Bermangueato chief, became aware of our intentions to pass into the regions beyond him, with true native inhumanity he sent men before us to drive away all the bushmen and Bakalihari from our route, in order that, being deprived of their assistance in the search for water, we might, like the Griquas above mentioned, be compelled to return. This measure deprived me of the opportunity of holding the intercourse with these poor outcasts I might otherwise have enjoyed. But through the good providence of God, after travelling about 300 miles from Kolobeng, we struck on a magnificent river on the 4th of July, and without further difficulty, in so far as water was concerned, by winding along its banks nearly 300 miles more, we reached the Batavana, on the lake Ngami, by the beginning of August.

Previous to leaving this beautiful river on my return home, and commencing our route across the desert, I feel anxious to furnish you with the impressions produced on my mind by it and its inhabitants, the Bakoba or Bayeiye. They are a totally distinct race from the Bechuanas. They call themselves Bayeiye (or men), while the term Bakoba (the name has somewhat of the meaning of “slaves,”) is applied to them by the Bechuanas. Their complexion is darker than that of the Bechuanas; and, of 300 words I collected of their language[N14], only 21 bear any resemblance to Sitchuana. They paddle along the rivers and lake in canoes hollowed out of the trunks of single trees; take fish in nets made of a weed which abounds on the banks; and kill hippopotami with harpoons attached to ropes. We greatly admired the frank, manly bearing of these inland sailors. Many of them spoke Sitchuana fluently, and, while the waggon went along the bank, I greatly enjoyed following the windings of the river in one of their primitive craft, and visiting their little villages among the reed. The banks are beautiful beyond any we had ever seen, except perhaps some parts of the Clyde. They are covered, in general, with gigantic trees, some of them bearing fruit, and quite new. Two of the Baobab[N15] variety measured 70 to 76 feet in circumference. The higher we ascended the river, the broader it became, until we often saw more than 100 yards of clear deep water between the broad belt of reed which grows in the shallower parts. The water was clear as crystal, and as we approached the point of junction with other large rivers reported to exist in the North, it was quite soft and cold. The fact that the Zonga is connected with large rivers coming from the north awakens emotions in my mind, which make the discovery of the lake dwindle out of sight. It opens the prospect of a highway, capable of being quickly traversed by boats, to a large section of well-peopled territory.

One remarkable feature in this river is its periodical rise and fall. It has risen nearly three feet in height since our arrival, and this is the dry season. That the rise is not caused by rains is evident from the water being so pure. Its purity and softness increased as we ascended towards its junction with the Tamunakle, from which, although connected with the lake, it derives the present increased supply. The sharpness of the air caused an amazing keenness of appetite, at an elevation of little more than 2000 feet above the level of the sea (water boiled at 207½° thermometer), and the reports of the Bayeiye, that the waters came from a mountainous region, suggested the conclusion that the increase of the water, at the beginning and middle of the dry season, must be derived from melting snow.

All the rivers reported, to the north of this, have Bayeiye upon them, and there are other tribes on their banks. To one of these, after visiting the Batavana, and taking a peep at the broad part of the lake, we directed our course; but the Batavana chief managed to obstruct us, by keeping all the Bayeiye near the ford on the opposite bank of the Zonga. African chiefs invariably dislike to see strangers passing them to tribes beyond. Sebitoane,—the chief who in former years saved the life of Sechele our chief,—lives about ten days north-east of the Batavana. The latter sent a present as a token of gratitude. This would have been a good introduction; the knowledge of the language, however, is the best we can have. I endeavoured to construct a raft, at a part which was only fifty or sixty yards wide, but the wood, though sun-dried, was so heavy it sunk immediately; another kind would not bear my weight, although a considerable portion of my person was under water. I could easily have swam across, and fain would have done it; but, landing without clothes, and then demanding of the Bakoba the loan of a boat, would scarcely be the thing for a messenger of peace, even though no alligator met me in the passage. These and other thoughts were revolving in my mind as I stood in the water,—for most sorely do I dislike to be beaten,—when my kind and generous friend Mr Oswell, with whom alone the visit to Sebitoane was to be made, offered to bring up a boat at his own expense from the Cape, which, after visiting the chief, and coming round the north end of the lake, will become missionary property. To him and our other companion Mr Murray, I feel greatly indebted,—for the chief expense of the journey has been borne by them. They could not have reached this point without my assistance; but, for the aid they have rendered in opening up this field, I feel greatly indebted; and, should any public notice be taken of this journey, I shall feel obliged to the directors if they express my thankfulness.

The Bayeiye or Bakoba listened to the statements made from the Divine Word with great attention, and, if I am not mistaken, seemed to understand the message of mercy delivered better than any people to whom I have preached for the first time. They have invariably a great many charms in the villages; stated the name of God in their language (without the least hesitation) to be “Oreeja;” mentioned the name of the first man and woman, and some traditionary statements respecting the flood. I shall not, however, take these for certain, till I have more knowledge of their language. They are found dwelling among the reed all round the lake, and on the banks of all the rivers to the north.

With the periodical flow of the rivers great shoals of fish descend. The people could give no reason for the rise of the water, further than that a chief, who lives in a part of the country in the north, called Mazzekiva, kills a man annually and throws his body into the stream, after which the water begins to flow.

The sketch which I enclose is intended to convey an idea of the river Zonga and the lake Ngami. The name of the latter is pronounced as if written with the Spanish ñ, the g being inserted to shew that the ringing sound is required. The meaning is “Great Water.” The latitude, taken by a Sextant on which I can fully depend, was 20° 20´ south, at the north-east extremity, where it is joined by the Zonga; longitude about 24° east. We do not, however, know it with certainty. We left our waggon near the Batavana town, and rode on horseback about six miles beyond it to the broad part. It gradually widens out into a Firth about 15 miles across, as you go south from the town, and in the south-south-west presents a large horizon of water. It is reported to be about 70 miles in length, bends round to the north-west, and there receives another river similar to the Zonga. The Zonga runs to the north-east. The thorns were so thickly planted near the upper part of this river, that we left all our waggons standing about 180 miles from the lake, except that of Mr Oswell, in which we travelled the remaining distance; but for this precaution our oxen would have been unable to return. I am now standing at a tribe of Bakurutse, and shall in a day or two re-enter the desert.

The breadth marked is intended to show the difference between the size of the Zonga, after its junction with the Tamunakle and before it. The farther it runs east, the narrower it becomes. The course is shewn by the arrow-heads. The rivers not seen, but reported by the natives, are put down in dotted lines. The dotted lines running north of the river and lake, shew the probable course of the Tamunakle, and another river which falls into the lake at its north-west extremity. The arrow-heads shew also the direction of its flow. At the part marked by the name of the Chief Mosing it is not more than 50 or 60 yards in breadth, while at 20° 7´ it is more than 100, and very deep.

The principal disease reported to prevail at certain seasons appears, from the account of the symptoms the natives give, to be pneumonia and not fever. When the wind rises to an ordinary breeze, such immense clouds of dust arise from the numerous dried-out lakes called salt-pans, that the whole atmosphere becomes quite yellow, and one cannot distinguish objects more than two miles off. It causes irritation in the eyes, and, as wind prevails almost constantly at certain seasons, this impalpable powder may act as it does among the grinders in Sheffield. We observed cough among them, a complaint almost unknown at Kolobeng. Musquitoes swarm in summer, and the Banyan and Palmyra give in some parts an Indian cast to the scenery.

(Signed) David Livingston.