If Some Border Colonists
Had The Absolute Certainty Of Our Government Declining To Bear Them Out
In Their Arrogance, We Should Probably Hear Less Of Caffre Insolence.
It Is Insolence Which Begets Insolence.
From the village of Cassange we have a good view of the surrounding country:
it is a gently undulating
Plain, covered with grass and patches of forest.
The western edge of the Quango valley appears, about twenty miles off,
as if it were a range of lofty mountains, and passes by
the name of Tala Mungongo, "Behold the Range". In the old Portuguese map,
to which I had been trusting in planning my route, it is indicated
as Talla Mugongo, or "Castle of Rocks!" and the Coanza is put down
as rising therefrom; but here I was assured that the Coanza had its source
near Bihe, far to the southwest of this, and we should not see that river
till we came near Pungo Andonga. It is somewhat remarkable
that more accurate information about this country has not been published.
Captain Neves and others had a correct idea of the courses of the rivers,
and communicated their knowledge freely; yet about this time
maps were sent to Europe from Angola representing the Quango and Coanza
as the same river, and Cassange placed about one hundred miles
from its true position. The frequent recurrence of the same name has probably
helped to increase the confusion. I have crossed several Quangos,
but all insignificant, except that which drains this valley.
The repetition of the favorite names of chiefs, as Catende,
is also perplexing, as one Catende may be mistaken for another.
To avoid this confusion as much as possible, I have refrained from introducing
many names. Numerous villages are studded all over the valley;
but these possess no permanence, and many more existed previous to
the Portuguese expedition of 1850 to punish the Bangala.
This valley, as I have before remarked, is all fertile in the extreme.
My men could never cease admiring its capability for raising
their corn (`Holcus sorghum'), and despising the comparatively limited
cultivation of the inhabitants. The Portuguese informed me that no manure
is ever needed, but that, the more the ground is tilled, the better it yields.
Virgin soil does not give such a heavy crop as an old garden,
and, judging from the size of the maize and manioc in the latter,
I can readily believe the statement. Cattle do well, too. Viewing the valley
as a whole, it may be said that its agricultural and pastoral riches
are lying waste. Both the Portuguese and their descendants
turn their attention almost exclusively to trade in wax and ivory,
and though the country would yield any amount of corn and dairy produce,
the native Portuguese live chiefly on manioc, and the Europeans
purchase their flour, bread, butter, and cheese from the Americans.
As the traders of Cassange were the first white men we had come to,
we sold the tusks belonging to Sekeletu, which had been brought to test
the difference of prices in the Makololo and white men's country.
The result was highly satisfactory to my companions, as the Portuguese give
much larger prices for ivory than traders from the Cape can possibly give,
who labor under the disadvantage of considerable overland expenses
and ruinous restrictions.
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