I Believe, However, That These Animals
Can Subsist Only Where There Is Some Moisture In The Vegetation
On Which They
Feed; for in one year of unusual drought we saw
herds of elands and flocks of ostriches crowding to the
Zouga from the Desert,
and very many of the latter were killed in pitfalls on the banks.
As long as there is any sap in the pasturage they seldom need water.
But should a traveler see the "spoor" of a rhinoceros, or buffalo, or zebra,
he would at once follow it up, well assured that before he had gone many miles
he would certainly reach water.
In the evening of our second day at Serotli, a hyaena, appearing suddenly
among the grass, succeeded in raising a panic among our cattle.
This false mode of attack is the plan which this cowardly animal
always adopts. His courage resembles closely that of a turkey-cock.
He will bite, if an animal is running away; but if the animal stand still,
so does he. Seventeen of our draught oxen ran away, and in their flight
went right into the hands of Sekomi, whom, from his being unfriendly
to our success, we had no particular wish to see. Cattle-stealing,
such as in the circumstances might have occurred in Caffraria,
is here unknown; so Sekomi sent back our oxen, and a message
strongly dissuading us against attempting the Desert.
"Where are you going? You will be killed by the sun and thirst,
and then all the white men will blame me for not saving you."
This was backed by a private message from his mother. "Why do you pass me?
I always made the people collect to hear the word that you have got.
What guilt have I, that you pass without looking at me?" We replied
by assuring the messengers that the white men would attribute our deaths
to our own stupidity and "hard-headedness" (tlogo, e thata),
"as we did not intend to allow our companions and guides to return
till they had put us into our graves." We sent a handsome present to Sekomi,
and a promise that, if he allowed the Bakalahari to keep the wells
open for us, we would repeat the gift on our return.
After exhausting all his eloquence in fruitless attempts to persuade us
to return, the under-chief, who headed the party of Sekomi's messengers,
inquired, "Who is taking them?" Looking round, he exclaimed,
with a face expressive of the most unfeigned disgust, "It is Ramotobi!"
Our guide belonged to Sekomi's tribe, but had fled to Sechele;
as fugitives in this country are always well received, and may even afterward
visit the tribe from which they had escaped, Ramotobi was in no danger,
though doing that which he knew to be directly opposed
to the interests of his own chief and tribe.
All around Serotli the country is perfectly flat, and composed of
soft white sand. There is a peculiar glare of bright sunlight
from a cloudless sky over the whole scene; and one clump of trees and bushes,
with open spaces between, looks so exactly like another,
that if you leave the wells, and walk a quarter of a mile in any direction,
it is difficult to return.
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