THE GLAMOUR OFPROSPECTINGCHAPTER I
THE GLAMOUR OFPROSPECTING
SOME WILD-GOOSE CHASES—DISCOVERY OF DIAMONDS IN GERMAN SOUTH-WEST AFRICA—BRIEF HISTORY OF THE NEW MANDATORY, LUDERITZBUCHT.
What gave me “diamond fever” I don’t pretend to say. Certainly I have no love for the cut and finished article, and nothing would induce me to wear it; but for the rough stone, and for the rough life entailed in searching for it, I have always had a passion. Yet the luck attending many of my ventures has been but bad, or at the best, indifferent. The first tiny glittering crystal that I found at the bottom of my wooden “batea” in Brazil, many years ago, had cost me weeks of hard work and every penny I possessed; and the months of hard digging and perilous prospecting that followed that first “find,” and that led me through the diamond-fields of Diamantina and Minhas Geraes, left me none the richer except in experience. But the memory of those long-ago hardships is a faint thing compared with the glamour that still clings to that time; and even here in South Africa, the home of the diamond, not all the vicissitudes of years spent on the Vaal River Diggings, or of prospecting in far wilder spots, have taken away the fascination that, to me, lies in this most precarious of all professions. Still, the fruitless searches have been many, and I have often been called upon to make long and arduous trips where the quest of precious stones has proved nothing but a wild-goose chase.
A stray diamond, very possibly dropped by an ostrich, and maybe the only one for a hundred square miles, has often led to a rush to where it was found, whilst, frequently, circumstantial tales of the finding of “precious” stones have been founded on the picking up of a beautiful but worthless quartz crystal.
At no period of late years were rumours as to the finding of diamonds more rife in South Africa than in 1907, when the sands of Luderitzbucht, in adjacent German territory, were found to be full of them, and when luck led me many hundreds of miles in another direction, and spoilt my chance of being one of the first in those new and wonderful fields.
Ever since the discovery of the first South African diamond in the Hopetown District in 1867, a belief has been prevalent among the thousands of diamond seekers scattered along the Vaal River Diggings that rich fields of a similar nature must exist far lower downstream. Yet, although the theory is logical enough, and many expeditions have from time to time searched the banks far beyond the confluence of Vaal and Orange, and a few have even reached the little-known lower reaches of the latter and located both promising gravel and even stray diamonds, nothing of a payable nature has so far been discovered in that direction.
In the latter part of 1907 I was shown an extremely beautiful stone of about twenty carats, that had been picked up by a transport rider some fifty miles below Prieska; and the accompanying gravel that this man brought in was so exactly a replica of the Vaal River “wash” that I came to terms with the finder and set about arranging a small expedition to accompany him and test the spot.
Before completing my arrangements, I went into Kimberley to try and find an old digger partner of mine, who had always been particularly anxious to explore the lower Orange River, and who, I thought, would be just the man to accompany me.
After some trouble I found him, and before Icould even broach the subject of my visit he opened fire on me. “The very man I wanted to see,” he burst out; “in fact, I was just writing to you. Man, I’ve just seen a whole lot of diamonds from a new place entirely; they’re small, but the chap who found them swears you can pick them up by the handful where he got them.”
It appeared that the finder of these small stones was again a transport rider, who had been working in German South-West Africa, and had brought back a small phial full of these tiny stones, which he said could be had for the picking up anywhere in the sand near a certain bay he knew of. An hour later my friend had found him again, and I saw them for myself—nearly fifty small, clean, and brilliantly polished little diamonds, of good quality, astonishingly alike in size, and quite different from either “mine” or “river” stones in appearance.
The man’s story was circumstantial enough, and March, my former partner, was most anxious to accompany him back to German South-West, and tried hard to induce me to join him.
Now, for years rumours had been current among prospectors and diamond diggers, as to the existence of the precious gems in abundance somewhere along the desolate, wind-swept shores of the little-known country lying north and west of the Orange; but the region was too remote and too inhospitable to encourage expeditions in that direction, and the Germanrégimeof the country by no means added to its attractiveness. So that, tempting as the little “sandstones” were, I was not to be persuaded; moreover, I had committed myself to the other venture and consoled myself with the reflection that, after all, my one big diamond from the Orange River was worth more than the whole phialful brought from German territory. And when I told my tale in turn and spoke of the big twenty-carat beauty I had seen, not only did March promptly decide to come with me, but Du Toit, the discoverer of the German stones, immediately threw in his lot with us, arguing,doubtless, that it would be easier and quicker to fill bottles with big diamonds than with little ones. “Anyway,” he said, “the other place can wait; we can go there afterwards if we think it worth while.” And so it was agreed, and thereby we probably missed a fortune, for the place where Du Toit had found the diamonds is to-day one of the richest diamond-fields in South-West Africa.
Anyway, the decision once arrived at, we lost no time in getting under way, and a few days later we were on our way towards the spot where the twenty-carat stone had been found, and which we fondly hoped would prove as rich in big stones as Du Toit declared the sands of the German coast were in small.
Into the details of that disastrous trip I shall not enter here. Suffice it to say that four months later, ragged, footsore, broken in health and practically penniless, we tramped back into Prieska, having searched the southern bank of the river for nearly three hundred miles without having found a single diamond. Gravel there was in abundance, containing all the so-called “indications”—agates, jasper, chalcedony, banded ironstone—in fact, all the usual accompaniments of the diamond as they are found higher up the river, but never the diamond itself.
So good had these “indications” been that we were eternally buoyed up by the hope that sooner or later we must strike the right place, and so we had wandered on till the fine outfit we had started with had gone piecemeal to keep us in food; and it was only when our small funds were absolutely exhausted, and our tools and kit reduced to what we stood in and could carry, that we gave up the quest of the “Fata Morgana” that had led us on and on into the wild country near the “Great Falls” below Kakamas, and beyond all trace of civilisation.
For weeks we had had no news, and had not seen a newspaper or received a letter for months, and I well remember, when at long last we reached Prieska, with what eagerness we hastened to the little post-office for the budget we expected waiting for us.And the very first letter I opened told me what this particular wild-goose chase had cost us, for both it and numerous wires and newspapers of long weeks back told of the sensational discovery of diamonds in the sands of German South-West, and the fabulous finds that the lucky first-comers had made there.
Newspaper reports spoke of men picking them up by the handful, filling their pockets with them in an hour or two, of bucketsful lying in the Bank. In fact, it was Sinbad’s wonderful “Valley of Diamonds” over again; and, giving due allowance for the exaggeration usual to such discoveries, there still could be no doubt that we had missed a fortune by not going there with Du Toit four months back, instead of on our disastrous trip down the river.
I had always liked Du Toit, who was one of the best Afrikanders I ever met, but never did he show to such advantage as when he got this news; his sun-flayed face went a shade pale as he read it, but all he said was, “Ah, well, better luck next time, boys.”
But we didn’t get it.
At De Aar the little party divided, March and our guide of the last venture going back to the River Diggings, whilst Du Toit and myself returned to Cape Town, intent on getting up to German South-West Africa as soon as possible.
And as German South-West Africa, now a Mandatory of the Union of South Africa, will figure prominently in these pages, it may be as well to give a brief account of that extensive country, which, until the discovery of diamonds already alluded to, was very little known to the average man even in Cape Colony, its next-door neighbour.
As early as 1867, owing to reports of rich mineral deposits existing in the country then known as Great Namaqualand and Damaraland, the Cape Government proposed to the Imperial Government the annexation of the whole of the West African coastline from the Orange River to Portuguese Angola,but no definite action ensued. And, in spite of various “Resolutions” the Cape Government subsequently made in favour of this extension of territory, nothing happened till 1877, when a Special Commission was sent to Damaraland, where they received offers of submission from the principal chiefs of the country.
The Imperial Government was, however, adverse to taking over the whole of this vast coastline, with its then unknown hinterland, but sanctioned the hoisting of the British flag at Walfish Bay, the natural port of a huge stretch of country; and this tiny mouthful of territory, bitten as it were out of the surrounding country that so soon afterwards became German, has, much to the annoyance of Berlin, remained British ever since.
At the time this annexation took place the hinterland was well populated by various native tribes, the Damaras (also known as Hereros), a people of Bantu descent who came from the north, and the Namaquas, a Hottentot race who had gradually spread from the south.
The true aboriginals of the country were probably what are known to-day as “Berg Damaras,” a little people of Bushman characteristics, small in numbers, but ethnologically of far greater interest than either of the two invading races. On the irruption of the Namaquas, these aboriginals were mostly conquered and enslaved, but a few escaped to the mountains, and retain their national characteristics to this day. Herero and Namaqua eventually met somewhere about the vicinity of where Windhuk now stands, and for a time each treated the other with respect; but about 1840 the Namaquas, strengthened by the accession to their ranks of certain half-breed desperadoes who had fled from Cape Colony and who were well armed and mounted, attacked the Damaras to such purpose that they were soon completely conquered and enslaved, and Jager Afrikander, the chief refugee and desperado, became their chief. Between 1863 and 1870, however, the Damarasagain rose and waged a war of independence, being, however, again crushed. Ten years later a rising again occurred, and the whole country was plunged in warfare. Meanwhile, however, the white man had arrived upon the scene, the British at Walfish Bay, and numerous white pioneers, including many Germans, had penetrated the country beyond it.
Prominent among the pioneers were several missionaries of the Rhenish Missionary Society, and upon their heels followed the traders, so that when in 1880 the above-mentioned native trouble broke out, a considerable number of white men were settled in the interior.
As British responsibility was conterminous with the boundaries of her Walfish Bay territory, these venturesome settlers had but little protection afforded them; and as German enterprise developed farther south and trading ventures were started, Germany asked the British Government for its protection for these pioneers. Certain negotiations followed, and by June 1884 Germany had made up its mind to extend its own protection to its subjects in Damaraland and Great Namaqualand, and incidentally to afford the cover of its sovereignty to an enormous concession of land near Angra Pequena which had been obtained by a wealthy Bremen merchant named Luderitz from certain native chiefs.
This bay of Angra Pequena, so named by the Portuguese who discovered it, is now known as Luderitzbucht; it lies about two hundred and fifty miles south of Walfish Bay, and, although vastly inferior to the latter port, also affords good anchorage. Here Luderitz started large trading stations; and in 1884, in pursuance of Bismarck’s scheme of colonial expansion, a belt of land twenty miles in width along the coast from the Orange River northward to Portuguese territory (excluding, of course, Walfish Bay) was placed under the protection of the German Empire.
From that time German expansion marched quickly,and in June 1885 the German dominion was extended over the whole of the vast hinterland up to the 20th parallel of east longitude, the Gordonia border of the present day.
Late in the day, but luckily just in time, the statesmen of Cape Colony realised that this was but a step towards driving a German barrier across South Africa from sea to sea; and as a counter-stroke, in 1885, Bechuanaland (lying east of the new territory) was annexed as far north as the Molopo River, and declared under British protection up to the northern confines of the Kalahari Desert.
The Germans, foiled in their design of further expansion, set about making the most they could of Damaraland. But red tape, officialism, and their harsh and overbearing methods, hampered them in their attempt at colonisation; moreover much of the land was practically desert and up to the time of the discovery of diamonds at Luderitzbucht the country had been run at a loss, and there had been a determined attempt by the Socialists in the Reichstag to force its abandonment.
The Herero and Hottentot rebellion in 1903 dragged on for years, and cost the Germans much blood and treasure, for they found themselves utterly unable to cope with the extraordinary mobility of the native commandos. These, excelling in guerilla warfare, harassed them incessantly, and, although in vastly inferior numbers, gave the raw German troops—fresh to the country—endless trouble before they were subdued or captured.
Towards the end of this costly campaign the warfare was waged with extreme bitterness, and indeed it ended in the virtual extermination of the Herero race.
With this slight, and, I hope, pardonable digression, I will return to Cape Town, where Du Toit and I at length embarked for Luderitzbucht.
Baby“BABYING” FOR DIAMONDS.The machine is called a “baby” (or more correctly “bébé,” after the French digger who invented it), and is universally used by South African diamond diggers.
“BABYING” FOR DIAMONDS.The machine is called a “baby” (or more correctly “bébé,” after the French digger who invented it), and is universally used by South African diamond diggers.
“BABYING” FOR DIAMONDS.
The machine is called a “baby” (or more correctly “bébé,” after the French digger who invented it), and is universally used by South African diamond diggers.
TheFrieda Woermantook us up the coast incomfort. We passed Port Nolloth in a fog which showed us nothing of the forlorn little northern copper port, and fog clung to us till we reached Luderitzbucht.
These sea-fogs are a feature of the South-West African coasts, and on the British (Namaqualand) coast they are beneficial, as they distribute a certain amount of moisture to the scanty vegetation of the coastal belt; but at Luderitzbucht there is no vegetation for the fog to moisten.
For, north, south, and east of it there is nothing but sand and barren rocks, and this description applies to practically the whole of the coast belt for hundreds of miles in either direction.
Luderitzbucht, at the time of which I write, was little more than a forlorn collection of corrugated iron huts clustering around one or two of the more important buildings, dignified by the names of “hotel,” store, and Customs House. The streets were ankle deep in sand, and the first thing that struck me was the enormous number of empty bottles that lay piled and scattered about in all directions—principally beer bottles, of course, but also thousands of mineral-water bottles, for water was at that time extremely scarce. The very little obtained locally was of poor quality, had a vile alkaline taste, and often alarming medicinal effects upon the new-comer; moreover, it had never been sufficient even for the scanty population existing here before the discovery of diamonds. A large condensing plant had supplied the deficiency in an intermittent manner, for it frequently broke down or got out of order, and it was the usual thing in the early days to have cargoes of water brought by steamer from Cape Town.
With the discovery of diamonds came the influx of “all sorts and conditions of men” usual to “rushes” all over the world, and water rose to famine prices. Washing in sea-water, when tried by a few over-particular new-chums, was followed by extremely painful results, for the brine aggravated a hundredfold the painful sun-blisters inevitable in acountry where the blazing rays of a sub-tropical sun beat back with redoubled fierceness from the glaring, scorching, all-pervading sand. A helmet, whilst absolutely essential, is after all but little protection from a glare that comes from the sand all around one as from a huge mirror. We soon found that, if this glare was to be borne at all, it was by using spectacles of smoked glass, and these, fitted with wire gauze side-protectors, are also essential in the blinding sand-storms that form a frequent variation of Luderitzbucht weather conditions.
We found the place so crowded that it was almost impossible to obtain even the roughest accommodation; the hotels were full, the stores were full, every shanty dignified by the name of a dwelling was crammed, men “pigging it” four and six in tiny rooms meant for a single occupant, and food, and above all water, at famine prices.
So great had been the rush, for a time, that the police had been quite unable to cope with it, and when I came to see more of the motley crowd of “fortune seekers” that had invaded the place, I easily forgave the irascibility of the stout, overfed and overheated German officials who had had to deal with them all. What a lot they were! Only a small minority were genuine prospectors, engineers, or mining-men with a legitimate interest in the diamond discoveries; the majority were shady “company promoters,” bucket-shop experts, warned-off bookmakers and betting-men (“brokers” they usually styled themselves), and sharpers of all sorts, on the lookout for prey in the shape of lucky diggers or discoverers. Then, too, there were a number of self-styled “prospectors,” runaway ships’ cooks, stewards, stokers, and seamen, the bulk of whom had never seen a rough diamond in their lives, and of course a modicum of genuine men of past experience—principally ex-“river-diggers”—men whose small capital was running away like water for bare necessities in this miserable dust-hole of creation.
We soon found that most of the available land in the vicinity of Luderitzbucht had been taken up, and much of it had already changed hands two or three times. Companies and syndicates were being “floated” at a great rate, many of them by unscrupulous scoundrels of promoters, acting upon the “reports” of equally lying and unscrupulous “prospectors.”
Schurfscheinen(prospecting licences) were at that time transferable, and as they were daily becoming more difficult to procure, they often changed hands several times, and for quite large sums, before they were even used for their legitimate purpose of enabling the holder to locate and peg-off a claim. And often, when, as a result of an expensive expedition, ground was located and title secured, the diamonds shown to back up the “discoverer’s” or “promoter’s” highly coloured report would be the only ones ever seen by the gullible purchaser or shareholder.
The conditions under which diamonds were found made “salting” a very easy matter to carry out and a very difficult one to detect. The small and brightly polished little gems, usually running three or four to the carat—that is to say, about the size of hemp-seed—were generally found in the surface deposit of loose sandy shingle spread over much of the sand-belt near the coast, and differing from the sand of the country only in being slightly coarser. This loose deposit, in common with the sand, is in many places heaped up into small, wave-like ripples by the action of the prevailing wind, and wherever the diamonds exist these little ridges are exceptionally rich in them. The method of searching for them was simply by crawling along almost flat upon the ground, and turning over the shallow layer with a knife-point, though on some of the claims hand-washing in sea-water was being attempted. Most of the diamonds so far had come from a place known as “Kolman’s Kop,” a mile or two inland from the bay, and on the railway to Aus—indeed, the line ran right through this diamondiferous area—and itwas here that Du Toit had picked up his stones. So plentiful were the little “crystals” that many a little bottleful of them had been brought into Luderitzbucht in the early days and given away as curiosities, without the slightest notion as to what they really were.
A few keen-eyed Kaffirs engaged in construction work on the railway, and who had worked in the Kimberley mines or on the Vaal River Diggings, first realised what they really were, and several of these “boys,” who afterwards came to Cape Town, and there attempted to sell the stones, were convicted and sentenced to various terms of imprisonment under the provisions of the “I.D.B.” Act of Cape Colony.
Few, if any, of those who read the report of their trials believed their story that they had picked up the stones in the sands of German South-West Africa, but the few who did believe and made investigation were amply repaid for their trouble, for the first-comers picked up diamonds by the handful.
A few days tramping the surrounding district soon convinced us that all the likely ground near Luderitzbucht had been taken up—and indeed much that was unlikely—and we decided to clear off to an outlying district where distance and want of water had thus far prevented “prospectors” from penetrating.
A general examination of the gravel, sand, and various deposits had shown to we old diggers the significant fact that, whatever the origin of the diamonds, there was some analogy between these fields and those of the Vaal River Diggings, for prominent everywhere were the familiar pebbles of striped agate, chalcedony, jasper, etc., we knew so well. Most of these pebbles were, however, very much smaller than those of the Vaal River; moreover the action of wind and water had “graded” the loose deposits to such an extent that whole acres appeared to have been worked by sieves of a uniform mesh.
Now, this “grading” was also a feature of the diamonds themselves, for they were of a remarkably uniform size, and in this respect differed entirely from those of any other known deposit; for at Kimberley, or on the Vaal River Diggings, one of the fascinations of the precarious profession of diamond-digging lies in the fact that big and little stones are found together, and the next spadeful of ground may bring the digger a stone the size of a pea, or one the size of a potato. Now, the general theory as to how the diamonds came to be in the Luderitzbucht sands was that they had come from the sea, either from a rich pipe beneath it, or from a huge deposit washed down the Vaal and Orange Rivers during the course of countless ages, and out to sea, whence the north-setting current had brought the diamonds ashore. And we—pundits all—believed that, as the sea had obviously done the work of “grading” the stones, there must exist vastly heavier depositssomewherealong the coast, where, it should follow, we should also find vastly bigger diamonds. And those were what we wanted, the bigger the better.