FRANCOIS LE VAILLANT.

Born 1753.—Died 1824.

In commencing the life of this traveller I experience some apprehension that the interest of the narrative may suffer in my hands; since his exploits, as Sallust observes of those of the Athenians, appear to acquire much of their importance from the peculiar eloquence with which they are described. The style of Le Vaillant, though regarded by many as declamatory and negligent, is in fact so graceful, natural, and full of vivacity,—his sentiments are so warm,—his ideas, whether right or wrong, so peculiarly his own, that, whether he desires to interest you in the fate of his friends or of his cattle, of his collections or of his cocks and hens, the result is invariably the same: he irresistibly inspires you with feelings like his own, and for the moment compels you, in spite of yourself, to adopt his views and opinions. I cannot, however, flatter myself with the hope of equal success. Things really trifling in themselves might, I am afraid, continue to appear so when dressed in my plain style; and it therefore only remains for me to select, to the best of my judgment, such actions and events as really deserve to be remembered, and must always, with whatever degree of simplicity they may be described, command a certain degree of attention. The scene of this writer’s adventures had in many instances all the charm of novelty when his travels first appeared. No European had preceded him in his route. He could form no conjecture respecting the nature of the objects with which the morrow was to bringhim acquainted, and at every step experienced the

Novos decerpere flores.

In all the pleasures to be derived from pursuing an untrodden path, from penetrating into an unknown world; for such then was Africa, and such, in a great measure, it still continues—from beholding new species of birds and animals which his enthusiasm and perseverance were about to make known to mankind;—in all these pleasures, I say, he skilfully makes his readers his associates, and thus, apparently without effort, accomplishes the intention of the most consummate rhetorical art, the object of which is only to lead the imagination captive by the allurements of pleasure, or to urge it along by the keen sting of curiosity.

François le Vaillant was born in 1753, at Paramaribo, in Dutch Guiana, where his father, a rich merchant, originally from Metz, filled the office of consul. Even while a child the tastes and habits of his parents inspired him with a partiality for a wandering life, and for collections of objects of natural history, which quickly generated another passion, the passion for hunting; and this amusement, unphilosophical as it may seem, not only occupied his boyish days, in which man is cruel from thoughtlessness, but his riper and declining years, when suffering and calamity might have taught him to respect the lives even of the inferior animals.

His father, actuated by the love of science, or by the vanity of forming a collection, employed much of the leisure which he enjoyed in travelling through the less frequented parts of the colony, accompanied by his wife and son; and to this circumstance may be attributed Le Vaillant’s twofold passion for travelling and for natural history. The desire of possessing a cabinet of his own soon arose. Birds and beasts being as yet beyond his reach, he commencedwith caterpillars, butterflies, and other insects; but his ambition increasing with his acquisitions, he at length armed himself with the Indian sarbacan and bow, and before he had reached his tenth year had slain innumerable birds.

In 1763 he proceeded with his parents to Europe, where every object which presented itself to his eye was new. They first landed in Holland, where the phlegmatic Dutchmen, who, like the Chinese, pique themselves upon being “slow and sure,” viewed with astonishment the pert and forward urchin, who, at ten years of age, began to babble of science, cabinets, and collections. From Holland, however, they soon removed to the more congenial soil of France. Here precocity, which too frequently generates hopes never destined to be fulfilled, has always been viewed with more complacency than in any other country in Europe; and accordingly our youthful traveller, whose vanity amply made up for his want of knowledge, was flattered and encouraged to his heart’s content. In this particular instance the flowers were succeeded by fruit. Being capable of existing in solitude, which is difficult in youth, but yet absolutely necessary to the acquisition of studious habits, he yielded to his natural inclination for the chase, and spent whole weeks in the forests of Lorrain and Germany, intently studying the manners of animals and birds. His education, meanwhile, was not in other respects neglected; but the books which occupied him most agreeably were voyages and travels, as his mind seems already to have turned towards that point from which he was to derive his fame.

In the course of the year 1777 some fortunate circumstance conducted him to Paris, where the collections and cabinets of learned and scientific men at first afforded him extraordinary delight; but ended, he says, by inspiring him with contempt, the richness of the treasures which they contained being equalled only by the confusion and absurdity observablein their arrangement. He discovered likewise in the current works on natural history, even in those of Buffon, so much exaggeration, and so many errors, notwithstanding the masterly eloquence with which those errors are clothed, that, convinced that no degree of genius could preserve from delusion the man who describes nature at second-hand, he at length determined to become a traveller before he became a natural historian, that he might observe in their native woods and deserts the animals which he wished to make known to the world. With these views, without communicating his plans to any person, he departed from Paris on the 17th of July, 1780, and proceeded to Holland.

Having visited the principal cities of the republic, and admired at Amsterdam the superb collection and aviary of M. Temminck and others, he obtained permission to proceed to the Cape of Good Hope in one of the ships of the Dutch East India Company, and set sail for that country on the 3d of December, 1780, the day before England declared war against the Dutch. Had this event taken place twenty-four hours sooner, the company, he observes, would not have allowed them to depart; in which case all his projects might have been frustrated. During the voyage the ship was cannonaded during several hours by a small English privateer, while the Dutch captain, rendered incapable of reflection by terror, never returned a single shot; and although exceedingly superior in men and metal to the enemy, would undoubtedly have suffered himself to be taken prisoner, had not another Dutch ship-of-war hove in sight, and put to flight the audacious Englishman. This was the only incident worthy of mention which occurred to dissipate theennuiof their long voyage; and they arrived at Cape Town three months and ten days after their departure from the Texel.

Le Vaillant, who had taken care to provide himself previous to his departure from Amsterdam withnumerous letters of recommendation, was received with remarkable attention by several individuals of distinction at the Cape. His design of exploring the remoter districts of the colony and the adjacent countries fortunately excited no jealousy or suspicion in their minds, and therefore, instead of labouring, as petty colonial governments too frequently do, to obstruct the interests of science, they evinced a disposition to favour the views of the traveller, entertained him with profuse hospitality during the many months which the preparations for his journey required him to remain among them, and, which to him was still more important, exerted their influence and authority to facilitate his movements towards the countries of the interior. So agreeable a reception could not, of course, fail to produce its effect upon the mind of the traveller. It quite melted away his affected misanthropy. He found himself in good-humour with mankind, and, as if benevolence and philanthropy were the peculiar attributes of the natives of Holland, observes, that this species of politeness was what he had reckoned upon, for that he knew he had to deal with Dutchmen!

His remarks upon Cape Town, now no longer in the possession of the Dutch, are sufficiently curious, as they enable us to contrast its appearance fifty years ago with that which it at present wears under English government. Though a large proportion of the houses were spacious and handsome, the streets, in spite of their great breadth, appeared disagreeable even to a Frenchman, on account of the badness of the pavement, and the stench which everywhere offended the nostrils, arising from the heads, feet, and intestines of slaughtered animals which the butchers of the company were in the habit of casting forth in heaps before their doors, and which, with more than Ottomite negligence, the authorities allowed to putrefy upon the spot. The effluvia proceeding from these abominations Le Vaillantwith reason regarded as one of the active causes of those epidemics which usually prevailed in the city during those seasons in which the violent south-east wind had not blown. While this cleansing wind was performing its operations, the streets were almost rendered impassable. The hurricane, precipitating from the mountains dense masses of vapour, raged for several days with indescribable impetuosity, overthrowing every thing in its course, and filling all places, even to the closets, trunks, and drawers, with dust. Trees and plants were frequently torn up by the roots; and well-planted gardens were rendered in the course of twenty-four hours as bare and naked as a desert.

Le Vaillant found the native colonists of the Cape handsome and well formed, particularly the women; but, although they studied with perseverance the important science of dress, they were still very far, in his opinion, from the ease and elegance of the ladies of France; a result which he in a great measure attributes to the practice of employing slaves as wet-nurses, and of otherwise living with them in habits of great familiarity. Slavery under any form is a thing to be abhorred; but our traveller here seems to exaggerate its deformities. Gracefulness, taste, decorum, which should, perhaps, be numbered among the virtues in a well-regulated state, are things with which slavery is by no means incompatible. The most polished nation of antiquity, which every person but a Frenchman will allow to have at least equalled the Parisians in refinement, constantly employed domestic slaves, and lived with them on terms of considerable familiarity. But ignorance and refinement are necessarily repugnant to each other; and in general the Dutch inhabitants of the Cape were, according to Le Vaillant, remarkable for their ignorance, which, without the aid of slavery, would sufficiently account for the absence of graceful and elegant manners.

Strangers, however, arriving at the Cape were almost invariably received with great hospitality, more particularly the English, who were admired for their generosity, as much as the French, for their sordid avarice and egotism, were despised and hated. Le Vaillant, in fact, observes that he has frequently heard colonists declare they would prefer being conquered by the English to their owing their safety to a nation whom they regarded with such aversion as the French; and the French troops which shortly afterward arrived in the colony, spreading around them vice and profligacy like a pestilence, debauching the wives and daughters of those who hospitably received them into their houses, and sowing dissension and eternal regrets in the bosoms of a hundred families, fully justified this deep-rooted hatred. The great number of persons in France who from selfish motives remain unmarried, and speculate upon the gratification of their feeble passions at the expense of the weak-minded and the miserable, must always render the nation an object of aversion among a remote people like the Dutch colonists of the Cape, whose ignorant simplicity necessarily exposes them to the shame of suffering by such immorality.

But if the English were so much the objects of admiration to the people, their numerous and powerful fleets, which have for centuries exercised an undisputed omnipotence on the ocean, rendered them no less terrible to the authorities, who, to secure the company’s vessels from their dreaded cannon, commanded them to be removed from Table Bay to that of Saldanha, where, it was hoped, their chances of escape would be more numerous. On board of one of these our traveller embarked on the 10th of May, and next morning arrived safely in the Bay of Saldanha, happy that the dreaded English flag had not encountered them on their passage.

In the waters of this bay, which was then but seldomvisited, great numbers of whales were continually seen sporting about; and Le Vaillant, whose hunting propensities were immediately awakened by the sight of a wild animal, frequently amused himself with firing at this new species of game. He could never perceive, however, that his balls produced the least effect upon them. But in Mutton Island, situated in the entrance of the bay, his fowlingpiece was more fortunate; for, from the prodigious number of rabbits with which that isle abounded, he found it easy on all occasions to kill as many as he pleased. In fact, this little isle became the warren of the whole fleet.

Various species of game abounded in the neighbourhood, among which the principal were the partridge and the hare, and that small kind of gazelle denominated steen-bock by the colonists. The panther, too, following in the track of his prey, was found in great numbers in this district. A few days after his arrival Le Vaillant was invited by the commandant to join him in a hunting-party. Their chase was unsuccessful: they killed nothing. Towards the close of the day, as if fate had decreed that his courage should at once be put to the proof, Le Vaillant found himself separated from his companion; and continuing as he proceeded to fire at intervals, in the hope of arousing the game, he started a small gazelle, which his dog immediately pursued. The gazelle was quickly out of sight, but the dog, which still seemed to be upon his track, stopped on the skirts of a large thicket, and began to bark. Le Vaillant, who had now no doubt that the game had taken refuge there, hastened to the spot with all the eagerness of a sportsman. His presence encouraged the dog, and he every moment expected to see the gazelle appear; but at length, growing impatient, he entered into the thicket, beating the bushes aside with his fowlingpiece. It is difficult, however, to describe the terror and confusion he experiencedwhen, instead of a timid and feeble gazelle, he saw before him a tremendous panther, whose glaring eyes were fixed upon him, while its outstretched neck, gaping jaws, and low, hollow growl seemed to announce its intention of springing. He regarded himself as lost. But the calm courage of his dog saved his life. It kept the animal at bay, hesitating between rage and fear, until the traveller had retreated out of the thicket. He then made towards the house of the commandant with all possible speed, frequently looking behind him as he ran.

Another kind of terror shortly after seized upon him at sea. He was sitting at supper with the captain and the other officers, when a sudden strange motion was observed in the ship. Every person immediately ran on deck. The whole crew were alarmed. Some imagined they had run upon their anchors, and were beating against the rocks; others accounted for the shock in a different manner; but, perceiving from the position of the other ships that they were still exactly where they had been before, no one could conjecture the cause of what had happened, and their alarm was redoubled. Presently, however, upon more careful observation, a whale was discovered entangled by the tail, between the ship’s cables, and making furious efforts to disengage itself. This was the cause of the singular motion they had felt. All hands now rushed with harpoons into the boat; but the obscurity of the night retarding their movements, the whale, just as they were ready to attack it, succeeded in disentangling its tail, and escaped.

In the entrance to Saldanha Bay there is a second small island, to which the colonists have given the name of the Marmotte. Upon this sequestered spot the captain of a Danish vessel, as our traveller had learned from tradition, having been long detained in the bay by contrary winds, had died there, and been buried by his crew. Le Vaillant now conceived thedesire of visiting his grave. In sailing by this lonely rock, in the passage to and from Mutton Island, he had invariably been struck by a dull but startling sound, proceeding from the isle. He mentioned the circumstance to the captain. The good-natured navigator, anxious to oblige his guest, and perhaps himself desirous of beholding the Dane’s grave, replied, that if his wishes pointed that way they should immediately be gratified.

Next morning, accordingly, they proceeded towards the island. In proportion as they advanced, the noise, increasing in loudness, more and more excited their curiosity; and the sound of the waves, which broke with great violence against the rocks, contributed not a little to swell the deep murmur, the cause of which no one could conjecture. They landed at length amid spray and foam, and, clambering up the cliffs, succeeded with much difficulty in reaching the summit. Here they beheld a sight such, in the opinion of our traveller, as no mortal ever beheld before. There arose in a moment from the surface of the earth an impenetrable cloud, which formed, at the height of forty feet above their heads, a prodigious canopy, or rather sky, of birds of every kind and colour. “Cormorants, sea-swallows, pelicans,—in one word,” says he, “all the winged creatures of Southern Africa were collected, I verily believe, in that spot. The screams of so enormous a multitude of birds mingling together formed an infernal species of music, which seemed to rend the ear with its piercing notes.

“The alarm,” he adds, “was so much the greater, among these innumerable legions of birds, in that it was the females with whom we had principally to deal, it being the season of nesting. They had therefore their nests, their eggs, their young ones to defend, and were as fierce as so many harpies. They deafened us with their cries. They stooped upon the wing, and in darting past us, brushed ourfaces. It was in vain that we fired our pieces; nothing could frighten away this living cloud. We could scarcely take a single step without crushing some eggs or young birds: the earth was covered by them.”

They found the caverns and hollows of the rocks inhabited by seals and sea-lions, of the latter of which they killed one specimen of enormous size. The various creeks of the island afforded a retreat to the manchot, a species of penguin, two feet in height, the wings of which, being entirely devoid of feathers, are only used in swimming. On land they hang down by the side of the body in a negligent manner, and communicate to the appearance and air of the bird something peculiarly sinister and funereal. These dismal-looking birds crowded every part of the island, but were nowhere so numerous as about the Dane’s tomb, around which they clustered as if to defend it from violation, and with their startling, melancholy cry, which mingled with the roar of the seal and the sea-lion, gave an air of sadness to the scene which deeply affected the soul. In itself the tomb was rude and simple,—a single block of stone, without name or inscription.

During the whole of his stay on this part of the coast Le Vaillant was actively employed in adding to his collection, which, with his money, clothes, and papers, continued on board the Middleburg, the principal ship on the station. He had now been three months in this neighbourhood, which he had traversed in every direction. He still continued, however, to roam about with his dog and gun in search of birds and animals; but one day, on approaching the shore, the roaring of cannon struck his ear. He at first supposed it might be somefêtegiven on board the ships, and hastened his march as much as possible, in the hope of sharing in the rejoicings. Upon his reaching the downs overlooking the bay, a very different spectacle presented itself. The Middleburg had just been blown up, andits burning fragments still filled the air, or lay widely scattered upon the sea! Here, then, was the end of all his hopes; for not only the results of his labours, but his fortune, the basis upon which all his projects were founded, was now destroyed.

The cause of this calamity was soon discovered. The English fleet, having obtained intelligence of the retreat of the Dutch, had burst upon them so suddenly, that the terrified commanders had all, with the exception of Vangenep, the commander of the Middleburg, been taken unawares, and prevented from executing the orders they had received, rather to run aground, sink, or blow up their ships, than suffer them to fall into the hands of the enemy. Instead of this, they all abandoned their vessels at the first appearance of the English, the sailors, notwithstanding their apprehensions of the enemy, carrying away with them every thing they could bring on shore, though the desire to escape beyond reach of the English cannon quickly compelled them to cast their burdens on the ground. Everywhere the roads and paths were crowded with fugitives, and covered with the plunder which they had abandoned on the way. Among the rest, an English prisoner was flying from the shore. Le Vaillant met him, and having, as well as he could, questioned him in English respecting the horrible catastrophe, was expecting an answer, when a cannon-ball carried off his head, and the answer with it. A large dog, which was running about wild and trembling, apparently in search of his master, was next moment killed by another ball; and Le Vaillant, apprehensive that the third might reach himself, immediately fled over the downs, and ensconced himself behind an eminence.

His position at this moment, it must be confessed, was sufficiently calamitous. To repair to the Cape, there to petition among a crowd of adventurers and unfortunates for pecuniary aid, was a step he couldill brook; yet, unless he submitted to this humiliation, what must be his fate? His family, his friends, his adopted country were two thousand leagues distant. His whole resources now consisted in his fowlingpiece, the clothes he then wore, and ten ducats. His misfortunes presented themselves to his mind in all their horrors, and he burst into tears,—a trait of weakness for which he might have pleaded the example of Homer’s and Virgil’s poetical heroes. An honest colonist, however, to whose house he repaired in this extremity, received him with a frank hospitality, which in some degree dissipated his chagrin; and he next day returned, though not without melancholy, to the first elements of his collection.

His misfortunes were soon known at the Cape, and in a few days after this occurrence he was again placed, by the friendship of M. Boers, the fiscal, in a condition to act as if nothing had happened. He therefore directed his attention to the preparations required by his projected journey into the interior; and these, from the style in which he designed to travel, were numerous and considerable. He caused to be constructed two large four-wheeled wagons, covered above with double canvass, in one of which were placed five large packing-cases, which exactly filled the bottom of the vehicle, and could be opened without being removed. Over these was spread a mattress, on which he might occasionally sleep; and on this mattress, which during the day was rolled up in the back of the wagon, he placed the cabinet fitted up with drawers, in which he intended to preserve his insects. The other cases were filled with powder, lead for casting balls, tobacco, hardware, brandy, and toys. He had sixteen fowlingpieces, one of which, calculated for shooting elephants, rhinoceroses, and hippopotami, carried a quarter of a pound ball. Besides these he had several pairs of double-barrelled pistols, a scimitar, and a dagger.

The second wagon carried his kitchen utensils, which, as he was rather addicted to luxurious eating, were numerous for a traveller: a gridiron, a frying-pan, two kettles, a caldron, tea-kettles, tea-pots, coffee-pots, basins, plates, dishes, &c. of porcelain. To supply these he laid in a large store of white sugar, coffee, tea, chocolate, and sugar-candy. His brandy and tobacco, to the use of which he was not at all addicted, were designed to purchase friends among the natives, and to keep his Hottentot attendants in good-humour. In addition to his wagons he had a great and a small tent, and numerous other conveniences, which he describes with great complacency. His train consisted of five Hottentots, nine dogs, and thirty oxen; but both his servants and his cattle were afterward considerably increased.

Le Vaillant judged rightly, that on proceeding on such an expedition it would be imprudent to have any associate of equal rank. Few men are calculated by nature to become travellers, though every person whose constitution will endure fatigue may perform a journey; but there are still fewer who are gifted with those happy qualities which render men desirable companions in an undertaking whence fame is expected to be derived. Some, from feebleness of purpose, desert you almost at the outset, and, to conceal their own pusillanimity, represent you in their coteries as feeble, or selfish, or impracticable; others, more mischievous still, proceed so far that they cannot return, but, clinging to your skirts, contrive on every trying occasion to impede your movements, or cast a damp upon your energies; while a third class, too brave to feel alarm, too consistent to shrink from an enterprise begun, too honest to misrepresent you, will yet thwart your designs through obstinacy, or through the pardonable but fatal desire to follow a plan of their own. For these reasons our traveller, though solicited by many who would have gladly borne him company, steadily refusedto admit of an associate, and determined to proceed on his journey alone.

His preparations being at length completed, he took leave of his friends, and departed from Cape Town on the 18th of December, 1781. Whatever be the natural condition of man, his mind never so powerfully experiences the emotions of delight as when, escaping voluntarily from the restraints of society and civilization, he finds himself his own master, and trusting to his own prowess for protection, on the virgin bosom of the earth; for of all the enjoyments which Heaven bestows upon mankind perfect liberty is the sweetest. Something of this Le Vaillant now tasted; for, although still within the pale of the laws and the purlieus of government, he saw himself on the way to the freedom of the woods, and partook by anticipation of those pleasures which to the savage are, perhaps, an ample equivalent for the gratification which letters and refinement afford.

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 distancefrom 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, whichthe 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, wegathered 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 streamnot 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, thecool 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 thereContinual, both meeting at one time:For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bearAnd with fresh flowers deck the wanton prime,And eke at once the heavy trees they climb,Which seem to labour under their fruit’s load:The while the joyous birds make their pastime,Among the shady leaves, their sweet abode,And their true loves without suspicion tell abroad.And all about grew every sort of flower,To which sad lovers were transformed of yore,” &c.

“There is continual spring, and harvest there

Continual, both meeting at one time:

For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear

And with fresh flowers deck the wanton prime,

And eke at once the heavy trees they climb,

Which seem to labour under their fruit’s load:

The while the joyous birds make their pastime,

Among the shady leaves, their sweet abode,

And their true loves without suspicion tell abroad.

And all about grew every sort of flower,To which sad lovers were transformed of yore,” &c.

And all about grew every sort of flower,

To which sad lovers were transformed of yore,” &c.

The dwellings which the few colonists, who had been led by poverty so far from the Cape, erected in the midst of this smiling scene, offered a striking contrast with it. Huts covered with earth, like the dens of wild animals, in which the inhabitants passed the night stretched upon a buffalo’s hide, afforded shelter to men who lived in plenty, and were thusbadly lodged from mere idleness. It is now inhabited by Englishmen, and the contrast, it may well be imagined, no longer exists.

Le Vaillant, who apprehended that the country of the Auteniquas might prove a kind of Capua to his followers, made no stay in it, but pushed forward with all speed, and encamped on the skirts of an immense forest. This wood abounded with touracos, a species of bird of which he had hitherto been able to procure no specimen. His first business therefore was, if possible, to possess himself of this bird. His scientific ardour was kindled. He scoured the woods. The touraco presented itself before him, but its habits unfortunately inclining it always to perch upon the tops of the loftiest trees, he could never succeed in bringing it down. One afternoon, however, his eagerness increasing with his disappointments, he determined not to desist from the pursuit of his prey, and the bird, which appeared to delight in mocking him, confined itself to short flights, flitting from tree to tree, until it had drawn him to a considerable distance from his camp. Growing impatient, at length the traveller, though still believing the bird beyond the reach of his fowlingpiece, fired, and had the unexpected satisfaction of seeing it drop from the tree. His joy now knew no bounds. He rushed on to snatch up his prey,

Thorough bush, thorough briar,

until his hands and legs were dripping with blood; but when he came up to the spot where the touraco should have been, he could discover nothing. He searched the surrounding thickets again and again; he proceeded farther, he returned, he examined the same spots twenty times, he peeped into every bush, into every hole; his labour was in vain. No touraco. “I was,” says he, “in despair, and the thick brushwood and thorny shrubs, which had now coveredeven my very face with blood, had irritated me in an indescribable manner. Nothing less than the appearance of a lion or a tiger could at that moment have calmed my rage. That a wretched bird, which, after so many wishes and so much toil, I had at length succeeded in bringing down, should after all escape from me in so unaccountable a manner! I struck my fowlingpiece against the earth, and stamped with passion. All at once the ground gave way under my feet; I disappeared, and sunk, with my arms in my hand, into a pit twelve feet deep. Astonishment, and the pain caused by the fall, now succeeded my rage. I saw myself in one of those covered pitfalls which the Hottentots construct for the taking of wild beasts, particularly the elephant. When I had recovered from my surprise I began to reflect upon the means of escaping, and congratulated myself that I had not fallen upon the sharp stake fixed up at the bottom of the pit to impale the wild animals, and that I found no company in the snare. But as it was every moment possible that some might arrive, particularly during the night, should I be compelled to remain there so long, my terrors quickly increased as darkness approached, and retarded the execution of the only plan I could imagine for extricating myself without assistance; this was to cut out a kind of steps with my sabre in the sides of the pit, but this operation would be a tedious one. In this dilemma the idea of the only rational plan suggested itself; which was, to pick up and load my fusil. I did so, and fired shot after shot. It was possible I might be heard by my attendants. I therefore listened from time to time with the most painful anxiety and a palpitating heart, in order to discover whether my signal had been heard. At last two shots re-echoed through the wood, and overwhelmed me with joy. I now continued firing at intervals, in order to guide my deliverers to the spot, and in a short time theyarrived, armed to the teeth, and full of uneasiness and alarm.”

He was immediately delivered from the elephant-trap; but having incurred so much risk in searching for the touraco, he made it a point of honour not to be balked, and recommencing his scrutiny, with the dogs which had arrived with his servants, found it jammed close under a small bush. He immediately seized upon his prey, and the pleasure of possessing this new and rare bird very quickly obliterated from his memory the trouble and danger which it had cost him.

In this encampment they remained until the setting in of the rains, when storms, accompanied by tremendous thunder, succeeded each other with singular rapidity. The thunderbolt several times fell near them in the forest. The whole country round was flooded, but they still clung to their encampment, until the whole was at length overflowed during the night. They then removed; but could proceed but a very short distance, for every paltry stream was now swelled to a furious torrent, which rushed down with impetuosity from the hills, rolling along with it mud, trees, and fragments of rock, and threatening whoever should attempt to traverse them with destruction. Meanwhile his cattle, pressed by hunger, had escaped from the camp; his dogs, which no degree of want could estrange, were reduced to skeletons, and fought with each other for the most revolting food; his Hottentots, less affectionate than the dogs, began to murmur, but could discover no just cause of complaint, and were but little disposed to aid themselves. A drowned buffalo, however, which was accidentally found in one of the torrents, came opportunely to appease their hunger; they dragged it on shore with shouts of joy, and having cut it in pieces, and given the dogs their share, they feasted upon the remainder and were happy.

At length the month of March arrived, and the rains abated. The torrents, ceasing to receive their aliments from the clouds—for, like the Nile, they are strictly διϊὲες—shrunk to their ordinary insignificance, the camp was immediately put in motion, and pushing onwards for a few leagues, they discovered a more convenient site on the acclivity of a hill, where they remained some time to recruit themselves and their cattle. Le Vaillant travelled for pleasure, and was gifted with the happy faculty of discovering at a glance its springs and sources. Near the site of his camp there was a small eminence, the summit of which was crowned with a diminutive grove, where the trees had so grown into each other that the whole seemed one solid mass of foliage. He immediately conceived the idea of transforming this thicket into a palace; and causing a covered entrance to be cut into the centre, he there hewed out two large square apartments, one of which was immediately converted into a study, and the other into a kitchen. If we keep out of sight the kitchen, and the share which art had in its formation, Spenser has admirably described this arbour, as well as the hill on which it stood:

Right in the middest of that paradiseThere stood a stately mount, on whose round topA gloomy grove of myrtle-trees did rise,Whose shady boughs sharp steel did never lop,Nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop.But like a girlond compassed the height,And from their fruitful sides sweet gum did drop,That all the ground, with precious dew bedight,Threw forth most dainty odours and most sweet delight.And in the thickest covert of that shadeThere was a pleasant arbour, not by art,But of the trees’ own inclination, made,Which knitting their rank branches, part to part,With wanton ivy-twine entrailed athwart,And eglantine and caprifole among,Fashioned above within their inmost part,That neither Phœbus’ beams could through them throng,Nor Æolus’ sharp blast could work them any wrong.

Right in the middest of that paradise

There stood a stately mount, on whose round top

A gloomy grove of myrtle-trees did rise,

Whose shady boughs sharp steel did never lop,

Nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop.

But like a girlond compassed the height,

And from their fruitful sides sweet gum did drop,

That all the ground, with precious dew bedight,

Threw forth most dainty odours and most sweet delight.

And in the thickest covert of that shadeThere was a pleasant arbour, not by art,But of the trees’ own inclination, made,Which knitting their rank branches, part to part,With wanton ivy-twine entrailed athwart,And eglantine and caprifole among,Fashioned above within their inmost part,That neither Phœbus’ beams could through them throng,Nor Æolus’ sharp blast could work them any wrong.

And in the thickest covert of that shade

There was a pleasant arbour, not by art,

But of the trees’ own inclination, made,

Which knitting their rank branches, part to part,

With wanton ivy-twine entrailed athwart,

And eglantine and caprifole among,

Fashioned above within their inmost part,

That neither Phœbus’ beams could through them throng,

Nor Æolus’ sharp blast could work them any wrong.

But, whatever charms his arbours might possess for him, his plans rendered it necessary soon to leave them. He therefore, after spending a pleasant week with M. Mulder, the last of the colonists in his route, pushed on towards the Black River, which he crossed on rafts, and at length found himself beyond the Dutch settlements. Here an accident occurred which might at once have terminated his journey. In toiling up a rough, precipitous mountain, where it was found necessary to yoke twenty oxen to a wagon, the traces of the principal vehicle snapped asunder, immediately in front of the great shaft-oxen, which being unable to resist the enormous weight to which they were attached, reeled back, and the wagon at once rolled down along the edge of an abyss; while Le Vaillant and his whole party stood still, watching, with uplifted hands and looks of dismay, each shock and slide of the cumbrous machine, which, after twenty hair-breadth escapes, ran against a large rock on the edge of the torrent, and stopped, without receiving any material injury. Loss of time, therefore, was the only injury he sustained. By patience and industry they succeeded in passing the mountain, which being effected, they descended into a magnificent country, watered by numerous rivers, covered with woods, abounding in game, and affording numerous specimens of birds and quadrupeds unknown to natural history.

In the midst of this new scene he was overtaken by disease. Though of a disposition naturally intrepid, the idea that he might be destined to perish in the wilderness, surrounded by savages, two thousand leagues from home, disturbed his imagination. Charles the Twelfth of Sweden, attacked by a fever when flying through the Ukraine after the battle of Pultowa, experienced a diminution of courage, and, unless my memory deceive me, was seen to shed tears; and Cæsar, when the fit, as Shakspeare has it, was on him, cried, “Give me some drink, Titinius,like a sick girl.” Le Vaillant, therefore, had good authority for his melancholy. His temperament, moreover, in proportion as it was more susceptible of exhilarating impressions in health, was proner in sickness to yield to despondency. He was, besides, entirely ignorant of medicine; knew nothing of the nature of the disease by which he was attacked; and was surrounded by persons still more ignorant than himself. All he could do, therefore, was to remain quiet, and allow nature to work. For twelve days he lingered on the confines of life and death, kept in a perpetual bath of perspiration by the heat of the atmosphere; and this heat was his Pæon and Æsculapius, for by its sole aid the fever, which had so fiercely menaced him, was entirely subdued. However, it is extremely probable that he owed the disease as well as the remedy to the climate. To enhance his misfortunes, his Hottentots were at the same time attacked by dysentery; but, by strictly attending to regimen, a difficult task to a gross and sensual people, they all, without exception, recovered.

This danger being removed, they proceeded on their journey, the interest of which was every day increased by the greater solitude of the scene, and the more frequent occurrence of wild animals, or their traces. I would willingly describe at length the pleasures and the adventures of this romantic excursion; but my plan forbids me to indulge in voluminous details, and I want the art to present by a few masterly strokes the whole of a complicated and animated scene to the mind. However, I must attempt what I can. After wandering a full month in a vast plain, intersected by forests, and, in a manner, walled round by precipices, they were driven back upon their own footsteps, fatigued and mortified, and unable to conjecture in what direction it would be possible to advance. While they were in this humour, they discovered in their route the footmarksof a herd of elephants. To Le Vaillant, who had never yet enjoyed the satisfaction of hunting this enormous animal, though it might, perhaps, be said to have constituted one of his principal reasons for travelling in Africa, the sight was sufficient to restore his equanimity. The order for halting was immediately given, and having, as soon as the tents were pitched, selected five of his best marksmen, our traveller set out in pursuit of the game.

The traces were so fresh and striking, that they had no difficulty in following them. They therefore pushed on vigorously, expecting every moment to come in sight of the herd. But still they saw nothing; and night coming on, they bivouacked in the woods, and having supped gayly, lay down to sleep, though not without considerable agitation and alarm. At every puff of wind rustling through the leaves, at every hum of a beetle, the whole party was roused, and put upon its guard. It was feared that the monsters of which they were in search might rush upon them unawares, and trample them to atoms. However, the night passed away, as did likewise the day and night ensuing, without their being disturbed by any thing more formidable than a stray buffalo, which approaching the fire, and discovering that it was in the vicinity of man, rushed back with all speed into the woods.

On the third day, after a painful march among briers and underwood, they arrived in a rather open part of the forest, when one of the Hottentots, who had climbed up into a tree to reconnoitre, perceived the herd in the distance, and putting his finger on his lips to enjoin silence, informed them by opening and closing his hand of the number of the elephants. He then came down; a council was held; and it was determined they should approach them on the lee-side that they might not be discovered. The Hottentot now conducted Le Vaillant through the bushes to a small knoll, and desiring him to cast hiseyes in a certain direction, pointed out an enormous elephant not many paces distant. At first, however, Le Vaillant could see nothing; or, rather, he mistook what he saw of the animal for a portion of the rock by which it stood. But when at length a slight motion had corrected his mistake, he distinguished the head and enormous tusks of the beast turned towards him. He instantly levelled his musket, and, aiming at the brain, fired, and the elephant dropped down dead. The report of the gun put the whole herd, consisting of about thirty, to instant flight; and our traveller beheld with amazement their huge ears flapping the air with a violence in proportion to the rapidity of their motion.

The whole party now experienced that joyous alacrity which man always feels when engaged in the work of destruction. They fired upon the enemy, for as such the beasts were now to be regarded, and the sight of the excrements mingled with blood, which escaped from the wounded animal, and informed them that their bullets had taken effect, delighted them exceedingly. Their pursuit now became more eager. The elephant, writhing with pain, at one moment crouched to the earth, at another rose, but only to fall again. The hunters, however, who hung close upon his haunches, constantly by fresh volleys compelled him to rise. In this condition he rushed through the woods, snapping off, or uprooting trees in his passage. At length, becoming furious with pain, he turned round upon his pursuers, who immediately fled in their turn. Le Vaillant, more eager than the rest, had unhappily advanced before them, and was now but twenty-five paces from the animal. His gun of thirty pounds’ weight impeded his movements. The enemy gained upon him every moment. His followers gave him up for lost; but just as the elephant had overtaken him, he dropped down, and crept under the trunk of a fallen tree, over which the furious beast, whose great heightprevents it, at least in such situations, from seeing under its feet, bounded in an instant. Being terrified, however, by the noise of the Hottentots, it had not advanced many paces before it stopped, and with a wild but searching eye, began to reconnoitre the spot. Our traveller had his long gun in his hand, and might, had he chosen, have fired upon his enemy; but he knew that instant destruction must ensue should he miss his aim, and he therefore preferred trusting to the chances of concealment. Presently the elephant faced about, and drew near the tree; but he again leaped over it without perceiving Le Vaillant, who, as soon as he retreated to a sufficient distance, sprang from his hiding-place, and shot him in the flank. Notwithstanding all this, he succeeded in effecting his escape, though his bloody traces too clearly showed the terrible condition to which their balls had reduced him. In this critical conjuncture, Klaas, his principal Hottentot, exhibited proofs of courage and affection which infinitely endeared him to his master, who thenceforward regarded him more in the light of a brother than a servant.

To those who have all their lives been accustomed to live upon the flesh of the ox and the sheep, elephant cutlets may appear revolting; but in the deserts of Africa, where imperious hunger silences the objections of prejudice, and teaches man to regard the whole animal creation as his farmyard, the palate quickly accommodates itself to the viands within its reach, and even learns to discover delicacy in things which, in a fashionable dining-room, it might have loathed. However this may be, Le Vaillant and his Hottentots, whose appetites were grievously sharpened by fatigue, immediately employed themselves in cutting up and cooking their game. For the former, as the most dainty personage of the party, a few slices off the trunk were broiled, and he found them so exquisite that, being as I have already said, to a certain degree, an epicure, they gave him a tastefor elephant hunting, which he afterward seized every occasion of indulging. But he was informed by Klaas that by far the greatest delicacy, which would cause him to forget the flavour of the trunk, was yet to come. This consisted of the elephant’s foot, which his people undertook to dress for his breakfast.

The reader who has perused Captain Cook’s “Voyages in the South Seas,” or Ledyard, or the “Histoire Naturelle de l’Homme” of Lesson, will remember the description given by those navigators of the curious subterranean ovens employed by the native islanders in cooking. A large opening is made in the earth, which is filled with red-hot stones or charcoal, and upon these a great fire is kept up for several hours. The hole is then cleared, and the thing which is to be baked inserted in the centre. Then the top is again closed, and a blazing fire once more kindled; which, having burned during a great part of the night, is at length extinguished, when the oven is opened, and the meat taken out, more exquisitely cooked than any man accustomed to the ordinary culinary processes can conceive.

Such was the process by which the elephant’s feet were baked for Le Vaillant. When they presented him one for breakfast, “The cooking,” says he, “had enlarged it prodigiously; I could scarcely recognise the form. But it looked so nice, and exhaled so delicious an odour, that I was impatient to taste it. It was a breakfast for a king. I had heard much of the excellence of bears’ feet, but could not have conceived that an animal so awkward, so material as the elephant, could have afforded so tender, so delicate a meat. Never have our modern Luculluses, thought I, seen any thing comparable upon their tables; it is in vain that they confound and reverse the seasons by the force of gold, and lay all the countries in the world under contribution: there are bounds to their craving sensuality; theyhave never been able to reach this point.” I do not see, however, what should prevent our rearing elephants, as we rear sheep and oxen, for the slaughter; in which case many persons, not ambitious of rivalling Lucullus in luxury, might enjoy the sight of thisne plus ultraof cooking upon their tables.

In proceeding eastward from this spot they encountered a horde of wandering Hottentots, with whose women our traveller’s followers, now considerably increased in number, contracted connexions with that easy effrontery which, at first consideration, would appear to be an attribute peculiar to civilized man. Le Vaillant is the apologist of the Hottentots; they were the instruments of his pleasure. His imagination associated them with romantic wanderings, with adventures, with dangers, with escapes; and when, after his return to France, he wished to remember and paint them in their true colours, the idea that they had been his companions, that they had suffered privations, and tasted of many enjoyments together, rushed into his mind, and blinded his judgment by interesting his heart. This natural result is not dishonourable to his feelings; but it can have no influence with me. I have received from them neither good nor harm. I must, therefore, confess that in my estimation they rank very low, even in the scale of savage excellence. Timid even to cowardliness, they are not urged by their temperament towards violence and bloodshed: but this induces cringing and dastardly habits, and causes them to desert their dearest friends when in danger. Gratitude is a plant which flourishes only in noble breasts. Among the Hottentots it is feeble and shortlived, unless nourished by a constant stream of benefits. That they have little religion, or superstition, though no proof of immorality, is an incontrovertible evidence of want of capacity and genius; for intellect, wherever it exists, is skilful in the discovery of intellect, and few, even amongsavage nations, are cursed with perceptions so obtuse that they cannot, if I may venture so to express myself, discover the footsteps of the sovereign intellect among the phenomena of the visible world. How far the profound indifference in which they are said to grovel on this point may exist, however, I will not presume to determine. It is possible that travellers may sometimes make these and similar savages the interpreters of their own thoughts.

On approaching the country of the Kaffers, a brave and warlike people, exceedingly hostile to the Hottentots, whom they regarded as the slaves and spies of the colonists, the most terrible apprehensions were awakened in his camp. Night and day they were on the alert. Every sound which startled the darkness was transformed, by their terror, into the footsteps of a Kaffer; and if they did not at once burst into open mutiny against their chief, it was rather the fear of the dangers to which the loss of him might expose them, than any ideas of discipline or fidelity, that restrained them.

Le Vaillant’s determination, nevertheless, still was to advance into Kaffraria; but finding after repeated endeavours that no argument could prevail upon his attendants, a very small number excepted, to accompany him, he contented himself with despatching an envoy to the Kaffer king, or chief. Meanwhile he continued to roam about on the frontiers, hunting, shooting, and adding to his collections. Here he encountered the fury of an African tempest. “The rain,” he observes, “fell all night in such abundance, that, in spite of all our efforts, it extinguished our fires. Our dogs made an indescribable clamour, and kept us awake all night, though no wild beast appeared. I have observed that during these rainy nights the lion, the tiger, and the hyena are never heard; but the danger is increased twofold; for, as they still roam about, they thus fall suddenly and unexpectedly on their prey. Still further to increase the frightwhich this unfortunate fact must occasion, the great humidity almost entirely deprives the dogs of the power of smelling, which renders them of little use. Of this danger my people were well aware, and therefore laboured with remarkable energy to keep alive the fires.

“It must be confessed,” he continues, “that the stormy nights of the African deserts are the very image of desolation, and that terror, on such occasions, involuntarily comes over one. When you are overtaken by these deluges, your tents and mats are quickly drenched and overflowed; a continual succession of lightning-flashes causes you twenty times in a minute to pass abruptly and suddenly from the most terrific light to entire darkness: the deafening roarings of the thunder, which burst from every side with horrible din, roll, as it were, against each other, are multiplied by the echoes, and hurled from peak to peak; the howling of the domestic animals; short intervals of fearful silence; every thing concurs to render those moments more melancholy. The danger to be apprehended from wild beasts still further increases the terror; and nothing but day can lessen the alarm, and restore nature to her tranquillity.”

In the interim between the departure and return of his messengers to the Kaffer chief, he fell in with a horde of wild Hottentots whom he denominates Gonaquas. A small party of them arrived at his camp during the night, and on awaking in the morning he saw himself with surprise surrounded by about twenty strange savages. They were accompanied by their chief, who advanced in a polite manner to pay his respects to the traveller, while the women, at once curious and timid, followed close behind, adorned with all their ornaments. Their bodies, the greater part of which was naked, were all newly anointed and sprinkled with red powder, which exhaled an agreeable perfume; while theirfaces had been painted in a variety of fashions. Each came, in the manner of the East, bringing or bearing a present. From one he received a number of ostrich’s eggs, a lamb from a second, while a third presented him with a quantity of milk in baskets. These baskets, woven with exquisite ingenuity with fine reeds or roots, are of so close a texture, that they may be used in carrying water. The chief’s present consisted of a handful of ostrich feathers of rare beauty, which Le Vaillant, to show how highly he valued them, immediately fixed in his hat, instead of his own plume. He then, in return, laid before the old chief, whose name was Haabas, several pounds of tobacco, which the Gonaqua at once distributed in equal portions among his people, reserving merely his own share, which did not exceed any other person’s, for himself. Other gifts, highly valued by savages, such as tinder-boxes, knives, beads, and bracelets, were added to the tobacco, and diffused universal joy among the tribe.

Among the women there was a girl of sixteen, who, by the pleasure with which she seemed to regard his person, particularly attracted the attention of Le Vaillant. Considered as an African she might be pronounced beautiful, and her form, which would have tempted the pencil of an Albano, possessed all those amorous contours which we admire in the Graces. Our traveller appears to have been in general but little susceptible of the charms of women; but the beautiful Gonaqua quickly caused him to feel that when accompanied by a desire to please, female attractions are everywhere irresistible, and to express his admiration he bestowed upon the savage beauty the name of Narina, which, in the Hottentot idiom, signifies “a flower.” Presents, it may be easily imagined, were not spared in this instance. The riches of his camp were in her power,—shawls, necklaces, girdles, every ornament which his European taste loved to contemplate on the femaleform, was lavished on Narina, who, in the intoxicating delight of the moment, scarcely knew whether she was in heaven or earth. She felt her arms, her feet, her head; and the touch of her dress and ornaments caused fresh pleasure every moment. He then produced a small mirror, more faithful than the lake or stream which had hitherto served for this purpose, and put the finishing stroke to the picture by showing her her own image reflected from its surface. His days now passed in one uninterrupted series of feasts, visits, dances, amusements of every kind. Nothing could have been more favourable to his views of studying Hottentot manners; but with respect to his ulterior design of penetrating far into the solitudes of the desert, the case was different, for his followers contracted in these Circean bowers a disease from which their chief himself, perhaps, was not altogether exempt; that is, an effeminate aversion to fatigue, a secret repugnance to toil, and, what was still worse, the habit of viewing dangers in the light thrown over them by an enamoured fancy, which distorts even more powerfully than the mirage of the desert.

It was now three weeks since the departure of his messengers for Kaffer-land, and he began to entertain apprehensions for their safety. His attendants, who partook of the same fears, became more than ever averse to advance eastward, and, as he was quickly informed by Klaas, began to concert among themselves various schemes of desertion. The camp at this period was stationed near a river, on the rich banks of which his oxen were turned out to graze, under the care of several Hottentots, who were kept by their fear of the Kaffers in a strict attention to their duty. One day, when Le Vaillant was accidentally detained in his tent, a messenger from the herdsmen arrived in breathless haste, to announce the fearful intelligence that a party of the enemy was approaching, and had already reachedthe opposite side of the river. Klaas and four fusileers were immediately despatched to reconnoitre, while the traveller called out and examined his forces and his arms, and prepared to give the Kaffers a warm reception should their intentions be found to be hostile; but it was shortly discovered that they had been invited to his camp by his envoys, whom they had accordingly accompanied on their return.

Our traveller had with laudable patience acquired a knowledge of the Hottentot language, but the people who now thronged his camp spoke a different dialect, not one word of which could he conjecture the meaning. But the languages of savages are easy in proportion as they are simple and poor, and the acquisition of Greek or Arabic would probably cost more pains and study than would render a man master of half the uncultivated languages of the world. It was not long, therefore, before he learned to disentangle, as it were, the intertwisted sounds which re-echoed around him, and to assign a meaning to them. The Kaffers employed much gesticulation and grimace in speaking, which aided him, likewise, in divining their thoughts; and he soon began to entertain reasonable hopes that an interpreter might not always be necessary in his intercourse with this lively people.

He imagined that his firearms, and the skill with which he made use of them, inspired the Kaffers with wonder; but he was no doubt mistaken. His fancy placed him among those simple tribes described by early travellers and navigators, to whom our weapons were utterly unknown; while the savages who were now his guests had frequently fought hand to hand with the colonists, and not only beheld their firearms, but learned, at the expense of their blood, how destructive they were. This illusion, however, appears to have afforded him pleasure, and he honestly cherished it; and as noinjury can arise from it to the reader, it will have been sufficient to allude to it thus briefly.

The history of his intercourse with this people affords a striking example of the incalculable benefits which one civilized man, who possessed courage to make the experiment, might confer upon a wild nation, whose Menû or Manco Capæ he would thus become. For genius the Kaffers are decidedly superior to the Hottentots; and if the picture which Le Vaillant draws of them be correct, it would require no very extraordinary impulse to launch them into the career of civilization. He saw them, however, but for a moment, as it were; for not long after their arrival, it was discovered that several half-castes, or bastards, as they are termed at the Cape, had been commissioned by the colonists to insinuate themselves into his camp, for the purpose of discovering whether or not he was entering into an alliance with the Kaffers. This, at least, was the interpretation which, after all the information he could obtain, he was induced to put upon the matter; but, like Rousseau, he seems to have amused himself with the idea that spies were continually placed upon his movements, and by this hypothesis he explained many little events resulting much less from design than from a fortuitous concourse of circumstances. Still, the poor Kaffers, who had suffered grievously by the Dutch, fully participated in his alarm, and made a precipitate retreat into their own country, but not before they had given him a pressing invitation to follow them.

Upon considering the state of the camp, and the inclinations of his people, it was judged imprudent to attempt against their will to lead them away farther from the colony; and therefore, selecting from among them a small number of the bravest, and leaving the remainder under the care of Swanspoel, he departed on his long-desired journey intoKaffer-land. Upon quitting the encampment they ascended the banks of the Great Fish River, and having forded its stream, entered Kaffer-land, moving in a north-easterly direction. The whole plain was covered with mimosa-trees, which, as Burckhardt observes, cast but a scanty shade. They were, therefore, greatly exposed to the heat of the sun, which was now intense. After marching for several days in this manner through a country which had once been inhabited, but was deserted now, and abandoned to the wild beasts, fires at night, deserted kraal, gardens overrun with weeds, and fields, the culture of which had recently been interrupted, inspired the belief that some half-stationary, half-wandering hordes must be in the neighbourhood.

The fatigue of the journey, united with a scarcity of water, began at length to cause the luxuries of the camp and the neighbourhood of the Great Fish River to be regretted; but although Le Vaillant himself evidently shared to a certain degree in these regrets, he was still unwilling to relinquish his enterprise before he caught a single glimpse of the Kaffers. At length a small party was discovered, whose dread of the whites equalled at least the terror with which they themselves inspired the pusillanimous Hottentots. From these men Le Vaillant learned that the greater part of the nation had retreated far into the interior, and as his imagination, at this time, seems to have exaggerated every difficulty and danger, for he was weary of the journey, he gladly seized upon the first excuse for relinquishing his enterprise, and returned with all possible celerity to his camp.

All his thoughts and wishes now pointed towards the Cape. Narina and the friendly Gonaquas in vain exerted their influence. The desert had lost its charms. For the moment he was weary of travelling. However, not to encounter in vain the fatigue of a long journey, he formed the design of verginga little to the north of his former route, through the immense solitudes of the Sneuw Bergen. The caravan, therefore, quitted the vicinity of the sea, and proceeded towards the west through forests of mimosa-trees, which were then in full flower, and imparted all the charms of summer to the landscape. The extreme silence of the nights during this part of the journey was sublime. All the functions of life seemed for the time to be suspended; except that, at intervals, the roaring of the lion resounded through the forests, startling the echoes, and according to the interpretation of the fancy, hushing the whole scene with terror.

At length, on the 3d of January, 1782, he discovered in the north-west the formidable summits of the Sneuw Bergen, which, though surrounded on all sides by burning plains, it being in those southern latitudes the height of summer, bore still upon its sides long ridges of snow. Prodigious herds of antelopes, amounting to more than fifty thousand in number, now crossed their route, driven by insufferable heat and drought towards the north. The scenery every league became more dreary. Wastes of sand, rocks piled upon each other, chasms, precipices, barrenness, sublimity, but no pasturage; and men in want of the necessaries of life regard as insipid whatever refuses to minister to their wants. Thus we can account for the little interest with which the sight of the Sneuw Bergen inspired Le Vaillant, who would otherwise appear to have been constitutionally deprived of that masculine energy which impels us rather to rejoice than be depressed at the sight of steril and desolate mountains, seldom trodden but by the brave, and seeming to have been expressly thrown up by nature as a rampart upon which freedom might successfully struggle against the oppressors of mankind. This is the true source of that indescribable delight with which we all tread upon mountain soil. A secret instinct seemsto whisper to the heart the original design, if it may be said without impiety, with which those inexpugnable fastnesses were fashioned by the hand of God. “Here,” say we to ourselves, “here at least we may be free;” and we look down from these arid heights with scorn upon the possessors of the fattest pastures, if the mark of tyranny, like that of the Beast in the Apocalypse, is set upon the soil.

Back to Index Next