Projected Journey
Projected journey — Making bellows — Commencement of journey — Geological observations — Travelling fare — Poisonous honey — Ignorance of the natives — Mr. Schmelen’s journal — Other testimonies — Mistakes of travellers — Supposed tradition of deluge — A sorcerer.
The state of the people, and the impossihility of the spot on which we lived becoming a permanent missionary station, — for, instead of its being a Jerusalem, as Mr. Ebner called it, it might, from its general character, be compared to the mountains of Gilboa, on which neither rain nor dew was to fall, — gave rise to much inquiry respecting a locality more suitable. It was accordingly resolved to take a journey to the north, and examine a country on the borders of Damara-land, where it was reported fountains of water abounded; but I had only one wagon, and that was a cripple. We had neither carpenters nor smiths on the station, and I was unacquainted with these trades myself. The Orange River was impassable; and even had it been fordable, the wagon was incapable of being conveyed to Pella, where it might be repaired. After ruminating for a day or two on what I had seen in smiths’ shops in Cape Town, I resolved on making a trial, and got a native bellows, made of goat’s skin, to the neck end of which was attached the horn of an elk, and at the other end two parallel sticks were fastened, which were opened by the hand in drawing it hack, and closed when pressed forward, but making a puffing like something broken-winded. The iron was only red-hot, after a good perspiration, when I found I must give it up as a had job; observing to the chief, if I must accompany him, it must be on the back of an ox. Reflecting again on the importance of having a wagon for the purpose of carrying food, when game happened to be killed, (for our sole dependence was on the success of banting,) and Afri¬ caner evidently not liking, on my account, to go without a wagon, I set my brains again to work, to try and improve on the bellows; for it was wind I wanted. Thou2:h I had never welded a hit of iron in my life, there was nothing like ‘‘ Try.” I engaged the chief to have two goats killed, the largest on the station, and their skins prepared, entire, in the native way, till they were as soft as cloth. These skins now resembled hags, the open ends of which I nailed to the edge of a circular piece of board, in which was a valve; one end of the machine was connected with the fire, and had a weight on it to force out the wind, when the other end was drawn out to supply more air. This apparatus was no sooner completed, than it was put to the test, and the result answered satisfactorily, in a steady current of air; and soon I had all the people around me, to witness my operations with the new-fangled bellows. Here I sat, receiving their - )raises, hut heartily wishing their departure, lest they should laugh at my burning the first bit of iron I took in
my hands to weld. A blue granite stone was my anvil; a clumsy pair of tongs, indicative of Vulcan’s first efforts; and a hammer never intended for the work of a forge. My first essay was with some trepidation, for I did not like so many lookers-on. Success, however, crowned my efforts, to the no small delight of the spectators. Having finished what was necessary for the wagon, I was encouraged to attempt the repair of some gun-locks, which were as essential for the comfort and success of the journey as the wagon. In doing this, I began with one which I thought I could not spoil, should I not succeed; and accomplishing that, I was able to put the others in order. But in doing this, I had, for the want of steel, to sacrifice two of my files, which, in my isolated situation, was a sacrifice indeed. Every thing being in readiness, we started, with thirty men, leaving Jacobus in charge of the alfairs of the station, and of the people, — the majority of whom were females, the men having removed to a distance on account of their cattle. On my objecting to the formidable appearance of so large a party, which included Titus, and other brothers, as well as Africaner himself, Jacobus remarked, “I am concerned for your safety; and a large party will have the tendency of preventing any thing like an attack being made, more than if it were small, as you desire.” In this I found after¬ wards he was perfectly right. I shall not trouble the reader with the monotonous detail of an African journey, — daily inyoking and unyoking, sand here, and stones there, and dreary plains following. I shall confine myself to some of the most striking incidents. — The country over which we passed was sterile in the extreme, sandy from the abundance of granite. Iron-stone was also to be found, and occasionally indications of copper. Slaty formations were also to be met with, and much quartz blling up large bssures occasioned by former convulsions, and the bills in some places presenting a mass of confusion; the strata bending and dipping from the perpendicular to the horizontal, and in others extending in a straight line from one hill to another. Native iron, in a very pure state, is procured in these regions; and, from the account given by the natives, I should suppose some of it is meteoric. The plains are invariably sandy, and there are even hills of pure sand. I also found, near some of the mountains, large pieces of trees in a fossil state. Zebras abounded, and wild asses, though less numerous than the former. Giraffes were frequently met with, sometimes thirty or forty together. Elks, koodoos, and the smaller species of antelopes, were also in great numbers. The rhinoceros (the kenengyane, or black chukuru of the Bechuanas) is also to be found, hut scarce. Buffaloes had nearly disappeared, at least in the region I visited. We had a tolerable supply, chiefly of the flesh of zebras and giraffes: the latter, when fat, was preferred, though nothing came amiss to hungry travellers. When one of the larger animals was shot, we generally remained a day to cut the meat up into thin pieces, which, spread on the hushes, soon dried. The best parts were always eaten first; and when pressed with hunger, recourse was had to the leaner portions, which had been stowed away in the wagon; and to make it palatable, (for it much resembles a piece of sole leather,) it was necessary to put it under the hot ashes, and then beat it between two m
stones till the fibres were loosened; and then it required very hard chewing: and many a time have I risen from a meal, with my jaw-bone so sore, I felt no inclination to speak. Meat prepared in this way, or fresh, with a draught of water, was our usual fare. I had a small quantity of coffee with me, which, as long as it lasted, I found very refreshing. Some may think that this mode of life was a great sacrifice; but habit makes it much less so than they suppose. It is true, I did feel it a sacrifice to have nothing at all to eat, and to bind the stomach with a thong to prevent the gnawing of hunger; and, under these circumstances, to break the bread of eternal life to the perishing heathen. A¥ater was in general very scarce; sometimes in small pools, stagnant, and with a green froth; and more than once we had to dispute with lions the possession of a pool. One day our guide (for it was a country without roads) led us towards a ravine which presented an animating appearance, the sides of the hills being covered with a lovely green; but, on our reaching them, scarcely anything was to be seen but a species of euphorbia, use¬ less either to man or beast, and through which we with difficulty made our way. Being hot, and the oxen worn out, we halted; and some of the men having been successful in finding honey in the fissures of the rocks, we ate with no little relish, thinking ourselves fortunate, for food was scarce. Shortly after an individual complained that his throat was becoming very hot; then a second, and a third, till all who had eaten felt as if their throats were on fire. A native coming up, and seeing our hands and faces besmeared with honey, with the greatest simplicity said, “You had better not eat the honey of this vale; do you not see the poison bushes. (euphorbia,) from the flowers of which the bees extract the honey, and the poison too?” Every one had re¬ course to the little water that remained in the vessels, for the inward heat was terrible; and the water, instead of allaying, only increased the pain. No serious consequences followed; but it was several days before we got rid of a most unpleasant sensation in the head as well as the throat.
We occasionally met with a Namaqua village, where we always remained a day or two, in order to give the inhabitants the benefit (to many for the first time) of hearing the everlasting gospel. Their ignorance, though to a calm reasoner on the subject, not to be wondered at, was distressing in the extreme, and perfectly con¬ founding to my preconceived notions about innate and intuitive ideas, and what some term natural light. I was determined not to he driven from the sentiments entertained by a vast majority of the respected advocates of religion in my own native land of light, — sentiments which I preferred even to those of the late venerable Roby, of Manchester, at whose feet I sat for a short season. I had with me one of the best of interpreters, himself a child of God, and I tried one native after another, to make my own point good. Sometimes I would even put words into the mouth of Africaner, and ask, ‘‘ Does he not mean so and so?” In some there was a glimmering of light; but again I found, to my mortification, that this had been received from the ‘Giat-wearers,” as they called the people from the south, or from Mr. Schmelen’s station at Bethany, whom they denominated, “the people that talked about God.” Bv visitors to Warm J3ath, the instructions of the Albrechts had extended far, till they
melted away in the obscurity of heathen gloom. I have often had to labour for hours before I could make them understand what I meant or wished to know. It would be more amusing and ludicrous, than instructive, to give the result of all my inquiries; and perhaps I cannot do better than repeat the substance of a conversation between our missionary, Mr. Schmelen, and a native, on this subject. Mr. S. had at that time better opportunities than any other man of be¬ coming acquainted with the views of the Namaquas in their native state; and it would appear from his journal, whence the following extract is taken, that he spared no pains to elicit their ideas.
In his journal of the 23rd of May, 1815, which the author has seen since his return to England, Mr. S. writes thus: “Addressing a Namaqua, I asked. Did you ever hear of a God “Yes, we have heard that there is a God, but we do not know right.” “Who told you that there is a God?” “We heard it from other people.” “Who made the sea?” “A girl made it on her coming to maturity, when she had several children at once: when she made it, the sweet and bitter waters were separated. One day, she sent some of her children to fetch sweet water, whilst the others were in the field, but the children were obstinate, and would not fetch the water, upon which she got angry, and mixed the sweet and bitter water together; from that day we are no longer able to drink the water, and people have learned to swim and run upon the water.” “Did you ever see a ship?” “Yes, we have
seen them a long time ago.” “Did you ever hear who made the first one?” “No, we never heard it.” “Did you never hear old people talk about it?” “No,
we never heard it from them.” “Who made the heavens?” “We do not know what man made them.” “Who made the sun?” We always heard that those people at the sea made it; when she goes down, they cut her in pieces, and fry her in a pot, and then put her together again, and bring her out at the other side. Sometimes the sun is over our head, and at other times she must give place for the moon to pass by. They said the moon had told to mankind that we must die, and not become alive again; that is the reason that when the moon is dark, we sometimes be¬ come ill.” “Is there any difference between man and beast?” “We think man has made the beasts.” “Did you ever see a man that made beasts?” “No, I only
heard so from others.” “Do you know you have a soul?” “I do not know it.” “How shall it be with
us after death?” “When we are dead, we ai’e dead;
when we have died, we go over the sea-water, at that side where the devil is.” “What do you mean by the devil?” “He is not good; all people who die, run to
him.” “How does the devil behave to them, well or ill?” “You shall see; all our people are there who have died (in the ships.)* Those people in the ships are masters over them.” In the same journal, the 7th of July, Mr. S. has the following: — “After service I spent some time conversing with some of the aged, hut found them extremely ignorant; some of them could not conceive of a being higher than man, and had not the least idea of the immortality of the soul. They intimated that their chief had been to
* Has not this a reference to men-stealcrs, who visited that coast? If so, it appears the natives never knew any thing about the devil, till they knew slave-dealers, or at least they considered them his emissaries.
some station to get instructions, and they hoped to hear more on these subjects from him.” “I preached,” says Mr. S., “from Rom. x. 18;” a text admirably adapted for people in such gross darkness.
Mr. Campbell, in his little tract of the “Life of Africaner,” states, Being asked what his views of God were before he enjoyed the benefit of Christian instruction, his reply was, that he never thought any thing at all on these subjects; that he thought about nothing but his cattle. He admitted that he had heard of a God, (well might he, being brought up in the Colony,) but he at the same time stated that his views of God were so erroneous, that the name suggested no more to his mind than something that might be found in the form of an insect, or in the lid of a snuff-box.” This was the testimony of one who had passed from darkness to the light of the Gospel, a testimony, the writer more than once heard from his own lips. Ignorant as the Namaquas were, I cannot go to the lengths of a traveller in that country, who, after being anxious to ascertain the extent of knowledge among the tribe with which he then dwelt, a tribe too which had long enjoyed the instructions of missionaries, and among which a missionary is still labouring with success, makes the following remarks: — I must say they positively know nothing beyond tracking game, and breaking-in pack-oxen. They did not know one year from another; they only knew that at certain times the trees and flowers bloom, and that the rain may be expected. As to their own age they knew no more what it was than idiots. Some even had no names; of numbers, of course, they were quite ignorant; few could count above five; and he was a clever fellow who could tell his fingers. Above all, they had not the
MISTxVKES OF TRAVELLERS. least idea of God or a future state. They were literally like the beasts which perish.” The above dismal picture of human degiTidation is, as is stated, the result of anxious inquiry on the subject; and that too at a missionary station where the best facilities can be had for correct interpretation. I presume the respect¬ able writer would feel not a little offended if his veracity were called in question, or even his want of research in those regions. Be that as it may, I must entirely differ from him in one point, if not in more, in his statement. I have dwelt much with the Namaquas, as well as among the people referred to, but I never knew a man who had not a name; and I have sat, and been taught by many infant lips to count more than ten, even when no missionary had laboured amongst them. It is, however, but just to remark, that it must be to a resident, not a swallow visitor that we must look for correct information on subjects abstract in their nature. I speak from experience when I say that on some points travellers are very liable to be led astray. For instance, I once, while writing, heard a traveller ask his guide the name of the last halting place they had passed. The guide, not understanding, replied, ‘^Ua reng,” which the traveller with all simplicity, was placing in his log book; when, interrupting him, I said, ‘What are you writing? that is not a name: he merely asks you what you say.” Accidents like the above frequently give rise to wrong names being applied to places; in another instance, mountains” was the reply, instead of the name of the mountain. And in reference to points of faith, or extent of knowledge, the traveller may be comy)letely duped, as I was in the present journey. At an isolated village, far in the wilds ot
Namaqua-land, I met an individual, who appeared somewhat more intelligent than the rest; to him I put a number of questions, to ascertain if there were any tradition in the country respecting the deluge, of which vestiges are to be found in almost every part of the known world. I had made many inquiries before, but all to no purpose. Discovering that he possessed some knowledge on the subject, and being an utter stranger to any of the party, and to all appearance a child of the desert, I very promptly took my pen and wrote, thinking myself a lucky discoverer. I was perfectly astonished at some of his first sentences, and, afraid lest I should lose one word, I appointed two interpreters: but by the time I reached the end of the story, I began to suspect. It bore the impress of the Bible. On questioning him as to the source of his information, he positively asserted that he had received it from his forefathers, and that he never saw or heard of a missionary. I secretly instituted inquiries into his history, but could elicit nothing. I folded up my paper, and put it into my desk, very much puzzled, and resolving to leave the statement to wiser heads than my own. On our return, this man accompanied us some days southward, towards the Karas mountains, when we halted at a village; and meeting a person who had been at Bethany, Mr. Schmelen’s station, lying north¬ west of us, I begged him to guide us thither, as I was anxious to visit the place. He could not, being worn out with the journey; but pointing to the deluge narrator, he said, “There is a man that knows the road to Bethany, for 1 have seen him there.” The mystery of the tradition was in a moment un¬ ravelled, and the man decamped, on my seeing that the forefather Yho told him the story, was our missionary Schmelen. Stories of a similar kind originally obtained at a missionary station, or from some godly traveller, get, in course of time, so mixed up and metamorphosed by heathen ideas, that they look exceedingly like native traditions. Leaving this subject for the present, we will return to the results of the journey. Having reached some of the branches of the Fish River, where we found water by digginglike the natives, we were brought to a stand. The wild Namaquas, as they are called, were jealous of the object of our visit. They knew of the fame of Africaner, and were apprized of his object, as well as that of the missionary; but they had in earlier times received such impressions of ‘diat- wearers,” that they were determined either to oppose our proceeding or dee. Here we remained some days, and notwithstanding their suspicions, we got the people to listen with great attention to the message of the Gospel. We also met with one of their sorcerers, who, the night before, had made the inhabitants believe that he had entered into a lion that came to the village and killed the cattle, creating an uproar which lasted till the morning dawn. With a piece of tobacco I coaxed him into conversation, and inquired about his reported powers, to which he readily replied; but when I wished to put them to the test, he declined. I then requested him to try his hand on me; this he also declined, adding, that I was a white sorcerer myself, from the strange doctrines I taught. Africaner proposed to return, rather than run the risk of shedding blood; in which he was confirmed by the arrival of a relative from the north, who gave a sorry account of the country.