CHAPTER XVI
FORMATION OF THE DUNES AND PANS—“KOBO-KOBO” PAN—RAIN IN THE DESERT—SCORPIONS—AAR PAN—MIRAGE AND “SAND-DEVILS”—KOICHIE KA—THE PIT AND THE PUFF-ADDER.
The long, parallel, wave-like formation of the sand-dunes of the Kalahari has been explained by many scientists as the result of the action of the prevailing wind, but this theory scarcely holds water. For though the majority of the dunes trend between west-north-west and east-south-east, this uniformity is broken in the vicinity of each of the numerous pans, around which the dunes are often formed in concentric rings, whilst the dried-up river-beds are usually flanked for some distance with dunes running parallel to their devious courses. So prominent is this concentric formation near many of the almost circular pans, that it appears probable that volcanic activity may have been the disturbing factor which formed both “pan” and dunes. Certain it is that no “prevailing wind” such as still blows, and still moves sand, would have formed either “waves” or rings as they lie to-day; and though science may be able to refute my theory, it is that the former were formed by successive and severe earth tremors (or earth waves) passing in the same direction whilst the sand was loose and without the binding vegetation much of it bears to-day, whilst the upheaval of volcanic magma similar to that of the Kimberley mine had in many instances formed the latter.
Many ingenious theories have also been advanced as to the origin of these pans, which, although such a feature of the desert, are by no means confined to it. They are generally believed to have also been formed by the action of the prevailing wind (whichseems to have quite a lot to answer for!), and doubtless in many places, where the sand is thin, this had been the case. But it can scarcely have been the case in these numerous pans of the “Game Reserve,” where the sand is at its deepest, and where many of the circular or oval pans are surrounded and protected by dunes of well over 100 feet in height, as with a wall. A learned German scientist (Passarge) has suggested that pans have been formed through vast herds of animals drinking and wallowing in the mud at these spots, causing depressions in which rain-water and sub-surface water collected, and I believe this is generally given as an explanation of the salt pans such as I have described.
But for animals to “wallow in mud” presupposes water in these spots, and they must have been free of sand in the first place to allow of water standing there.
I have visited scores of these pans, and I have found them to differ so greatly that it is hard to find a theory that would account for them all. In many the soil is what is known locally asbrakalkaline, spongy, powdery, into which the foot sinks deep at every step; in others the surface is a hard, sun-baked mud, red in colour and covered with a shining glaze. Some are salt pans such as I have described, in others I found several feet of blue or greenish “pot clay,” under which was a sort of black volcanic mud; still others were filled with a species of Kimberlite (blue ground) almost identical with that of the Premier Mine; and though the surface was often the usual blue shale that underlies most of the desert sand, in very many cases these depressions—on which the surrounding sand never accumulates—marked an entirely different “country rock” from that of the region generally.
One useful peculiarity about these pans, and one by which we were able eventually to locate them, was that their position was invariably marked by exceptionally high dunes in the immediate vicinity—usually on the south side; those of Aar Pan,the highest in the Reserve, being a good 300 feet above the level of the pan they flank.
But to return to our own particular troubles.
Old Gert, when he had been given a very drastically edited account of our trip, was able to describe minutely how we could take our bearings from the Salt Pan to find a large pan called “Kobo-Kobo,” whence the locating of our first diamond pan would be easy, and a day or two later Du Toit, Telfer, and myself made an attempt to reach it; van Reenen, with the “boys,” meanwhile testing a small pan about a mile to the north, where volcanic action was unmistakable, but where we found only pot-clay and volcanic mud.
As we had a great distance to traverse, we this time took the precaution to load ourselves well with water, each man starting with several spare bottles, which we buried at prominent spots along the route. By midday we were at the Salt Pan, which we skirted, and with a short rest pressed on, and by evening had reached the big pan, “Kobo-Kobo.” It is one of the most perfect pans in the desert, as true a circle as though drawn by a compass, surmounted by extremely high dunes, and with a perfectly level, spongy, alkaline floor. In common with most of the pans, it appears to have at some time contained a large quantity of water, as the margin was covered with a miniature beach of pebbles of jasper, banded ironstone, etc., identical with the deposits found along the Orange River. On one of the dunes near it stood a solitarywit boom, a big tree for these parts, about 10 feet high, and in the branches of which was a Bushman’s sleeping place, composed of a few sticks placed across each other, and on which they take refuge at night, when leopards or wild dogs are around and they do not wish to make a fire. It was a very old nest, however, and the bird had long since flown. Here we rested comfortably, the dry sticks making a good fire. Towards morning a cold, gusty wind got up and the morning broke with a sky completely overcast. It had threatenedrain so often that we thought nothing of it, and leaving our food, water, etc., in the tree, we set out towards the highest dunes on the farther side of the pan, from which we hoped to see the smaller one we wanted so badly. Arrived there, however, we found that this time at least the thunder-clouds were not bluffing, for rain was coming across the desert in that direction in a perfect sheet, and whilst we stood discussing plans, the first big drops began to fall amongst us.
We were totally unprepared for it, being dressed in two garments only of the thinnest khaki: it was quite useless for us to attempt to find the pan till it was over, and with one accord we turned back towards the tiny tree—the only bit of “shelter” within a day of us. By the time we were half across the pan the rain was coming down in sheets, punctuated with flashes of lightning, and the spongy surface of the pan was transformed into a quagmire in which we struggled up to our ankles. So soft did thebrakbecome in a few minutes that I had serious misgivings as to whether the whole place would not dissolve into a sort of quicksand and engulf us, and I was extremely glad to be again amongst the dunes.
The rare phenomenon of heavy rain in this arid spot, where it had probably not fallen for years, was also responsible for an extraordinary sight which we witnessed as soon as we had got out of the mud on to the pebble “beach” and firm sand. Scorpions were “trekking” in all directions. Driven out of the cracks and holes in the surface of the pan by the water, they swarmed in such numbers that one could scarce walk without stepping on them, and all with tail erect, rampant, ready to sting anything that came along, or, failing that, each other or themselves. And before we got to the tree, I had killed more of them than ever I had seen, besides several tarantulas and two snakes.
“The tree will be full of them!” shouted Telfer, and he was right. Luckily the embers were stillalive, and there was a fair amount of dry wood still, and by making a big fire we smoked and burnt them out: though through all the hours of that storm, and the whole night of dreary drizzle that succeeded it, these dangerous, venomous little pests constantly immolated themselves on the glowing embers of the fire.
It rained all day, and awit boomwas never intended by nature to do more than afford a modicum of shade from the sun, certainly not to keep out even a shower. Besides, this tree of ours was not much bigger than a bush, and as it was impossible to keep dry, we had to try at least to keep warm, and so the whole tree was gradually burnt piecemeal. Only a few days back we had nearly died for want of water, and now, right here in the dryest part of the desert, we were getting too much of it! Each man had but a thin shirt and pants and a pith helmet, which was soon a shapeless mass of pulp. Our meal-bag had hung in the tree, and by the time we remembered the fact most of its contents had run away in thin paste. We cooked the rest and had a hot meal with the rain pouring down on us, our only anxiety being not to let the fire out. Towards evening Gert said, “I never remember a rain like this in the Kalahari! It looks like keeping on all night. Come, we must search for more wood, and if possible shoot a buck; if so we can eat all night!”
So we gathered every dead bush within a mile—luckily there were a fair amount of them—and Gert shot a gemsbok, that stood quite still and seemed quite stupefied with the rain; and all night long we kept a fire going, and sizzled buck liver and buck steaks on the embers, and ate, and shivered, and grumbled, and steamed, as the hot flames drove some of the moisture out of our dripping clothes. Of course there was no chance of sleep, and indeed we were too occupied in keeping the fire alight and killing scorpions to think of it, and we were never more thankful than when morning at length broke,and we could see our way for an attempt to reach our diamond pan.
By noon we had found the place, a small circular pan about 100 yards in diameter, with a well-defined “wall” of tilted shale showing at the base of the dunes all round it, but alas! like us, it was full of water, and we could do nothing. The water, though freshly fallen, was almost like brine, and quite undrinkable; and altogether our cup was full!
However, about noon the weather cleared and the sun shone, and we slept for a couple of hours, and then found a new camping-place, where wood was abundant, made a big fire, and turned in for the night.
Although so much rain had fallen, it had been of no use to us, for all the pans in this particular vicinity were, we found, either salt or very alkaline, and whatever water they had caught was undrinkable. We had therefore to return to camp, there to refit for another trip, fully resolved that in future a mackintosh would be included in our equipment.
Thunder-showers now became frequent, and in some of the pans small pools of muddy but still drinkable water could be found; but this supplement to our supply of water was too precarious to be relied upon, and we were forced to still keep our base within reach of Rauchtenbach’s supply.
Meanwhile we tested several pans within easy distance of the camp, but found they were not what we required, and therefore decided to make a further reconnaissance eastward, towards where Gert had found the stones.
Van Reenen and I, therefore, one morning started for Aar Pan, resolved to climb the extremely high dune there, and from it chart out the position of as many pans as we could see, and, should we find a sufficiency of water in the pits described by Gert, to remove part of our stores, etc., there, and make it the starting place for further work. Van Reenen, who had been snug in camp during our deluge at“Kobo-Kobo,” would not hear of a waterproof, and laughed so at mine that I unslung it and left it behind again. In any case rain looked out of the question, for it was one of the most incandescent days of the trip. Starting at daybreak, we found that, though the distance was not great, this direction led absolutely athwart the dunes, and progress was extremely slow and difficult. The dunes were mostly covered with thick grasses, which the recent rain had caused to sprout in an astonishing manner, and which was every whit as troublesome to traverse as loose sand. There was an abundance of game, gemsbok in small clumps of four or six, or in pairs, standing and watching us curiously till within a stone’s throw; wild ostriches in flocks, and steenbok and duiker everywhere. Leopard spoor was also very prominent, and we had great hopes of getting one; but they are the most wily of beasts, and extremely hard to get at without dogs. By noon we were in full sight of the pan, and a most extraordinary sight it presented. Its perfectly level floor of light blue shale, surrounded by hills of reddish sand, gave it precisely the appearance of a lake, and for some time after I first came in sight of it, I felt confident that it was indeed full of water. Then across this flat, unruffled surface came sweeping what appeared to be a number of waterspouts, tall, perfectly defined columns, travelling rapidly. But they were not water, but sand-whorls, a common enough phenomenon in these dry regions, and known to the Boers aszand-duivels(sand-devils), and which, beginning with a slight whorl of sand, gather force and velocity as they travel, picking up small pebbles, sticks, leaves, and every light article that comes in their path, and bearing it aloft to a tremendous height. Here on this perfectly flat floor there was nothing to break their symmetry, and they were as well-defined as the waterspouts I took them for. From the high dunes from which we first obtained a full view of the pan, the whole circuit of its flanking dunes was plainly visible, but as we descended the mirage hid these, and when we eventually stood onthe floor no sign of the far dunes could be seen: we were apparently standing on the edge of a vast unbroken lake, whose mirror-like surface reflected the clouds as faithfully as a sheet of water would have done. And when, after a few minutes, several more “waterspouts” sprang up and went sailing across the “water,” I had almost to pinch myself; the whole thing was so real in its unreality. The pan is about two miles wide by five miles long, but by the time we were half-way the mirage had puzzled us so that we began to wonder if ever we should find the pits we were looking for. Occasionally a dune on the far bank loomed up as though itmightbe a solid reality, but a few steps in that direction would see it melt away, dissolving into the hazy shimmer. It was impossible to judge either distance or proportion; on several occasions a big pile of rocks came into view apparently as large as cottages and half a mile away, and, on our making for them, proved to be boulders the size of a bucket, and barely fifty yards’ distance. Then a long line of gemsbok came into sight following each other at perfectly regular intervals. Suddenly they stopped as one, then they all tossed their heads together, and then the line began to waver and break up and float away, and lo! there stood a solitary old bull staring at us, quite alone—the rest had all been tricks of the mirage. When we were within thirty yards he turned and made off, and was soon up to his knees in water, apparently, and followed by several of his spectral attendants. Altogether the place seemed absolutely uncanny, and in no part of the Kalahari have I ever seen the mirage play such tricks as at Aar Pan.
We found the pits at length, a shaft of about 15 feet in depth, and a shallower one of about 6 feet, side by side, and sunk at the side of a dolerite dyke (“Aar”) bisecting the Dwyka shale of the pan, and from which it takes its name. There was nearly a foot of muddy water in the shallow shaft, and a very small pool at the bottom of the other, so wehad no anxiety as to water. Indeed, after having drunk our fill from the shallow pit, we got fastidious: it was certainly very muddy and alkaline, and with at least ten mosquito larvæ to the spoonful, not to mention smaller abominations.
So van Reenen prepared to go down the deeper shaft, where a little water looked cleaner. An old tree-trunk had been left in it as a ladder, probably by natives, years before, and he swung himself over the edge, trying to reach the top of this pole. As he did so a big owl flew out, brushing past him, and nearly scaring the life out of both of us. It probably saved his life though, for looking down carefully to see if there were others, and our sun-blinded eyes getting accustomed to the gloom, we made out, just gliding lazily away from the water, a huge puff-adder, fully 4 feet long, and bloated as they always are. It was so near the colour of the dark rock that, had it not moved, we should certainly not have seen it, and van Reenen would almost assuredly have been bitten, and to have been bitten would have meant death.
The horror of that sluggish, bloated, most deadly of all snakes lurking there by that tiny pool of water, in a spot where water is so precious and certain to be sought by the rare wayfarer, and in a confined space where escape from it would be impossible, appealed to me most vividly, and we resolved that before we left the desert we would make an end of that big puff.
Meanwhile we decided that the other water was quite good enough for us. We had been walking about nine hours, and were dog-tired by the time we had climbed to the top of the enormous dune, which can be seen for so far in the Kalahari. It was nearly sunset, the mirage had disappeared, and the big pan, with a smaller one divided from it only by a narrow isthmus of dunes southward, could be seen from end to end, a distance of about eight or nine miles running almost north and south, whilst eastward a vast expanse of desert stretched to the far horizon, brokenhere and there by the prominent dunes we had learnt to associate with the pans.
In all directions the vast “sandscape” was unbroken by a sign of life, and, used to the desert as we were, somehow that highest dune to which we had climbed appeared the loneliest spot in all the Kalahari, and it was quite a relief, after we had lit a fire on the very top, to see an answering flame shine out from the signal dune at the camp some fifteen miles or more away.
Though there was plenty of vegetation on the dune, there was nothing in the shape of a tree, and later we lay down back to back near the fire, for we had no blankets, and the night was chilly as the day had been hot. I woke with a soft rain coming down in dense darkness, and was already soaked through, thanks to my idiocy in again bringing no waterproof. The fire was out and the wood hopelessly wet, and after wasting half my matches in vain, I woke van Reenen up so as to have someone to swear at.
He said, “That’s right—blame me! Why, you Jonah, don’t you know that it’s you that brings all these samples of weather we get! Wet through in the middle of the Kalahari! Why, you’re the sort of man who’d get sunstroke at the North Pole!”
We walked round a bit in the drenching drizzle, but got tired of kicking through thehaak doornbushes and pulling out the thorns, and came back to where the fire had been, kicked the ashes away, and lay back to back again on the still warm sand.
We had seen numbers of big leopard spoors on this dune, and when, a little later, van Reenen nudged me violently in the ribs and gave a “Hist!” I listened for all I was worth. Then I heard him cock his rifle. All I could hear was a faint scratching, but whether it was a big scratch some distance away, or a small scratching close at hand, neither of us could determine. And so we lay in the drizzle and darkness, with the locks of our rifles huddled under us as much as possible, waiting and expecting anything.Then suddenly van Reenen said, “Machtig! why, the damned thing is in my pocket!”
He had on a thin khaki jacket which had been hung on a bush whilst he collected firewood early in the evening, and there certainly was something scratching in the pocket. Luckily he did not put his hand in, but pulled the coat off. I struck a match and he shook the pocket carefully, and out dropped a big black scorpion, the very counterpart of the one that had stung him so badly at the beginning of the trip. Had he put his hand in that pocket...!
He killed it, and walked about most of the rest of the night, though he came over and woke me up once and said, “Jonah!” and I believe that to this day he blames me for that scorpion and the puff-adder.
In the morning, however, we found that there had been another visitor during the night, the wet sand showing the spoor of an exceptionally big leopard, that had evidently been circling round our bivouac most of the night, his pad covering van Reenen’s footprint in several places.
From this spot we worked a few days eastward, locating a number of pans, in one of which we found extremely promising yellow ground, and we determined to bring tools, etc., to Aar Pan, and make an effort to properly test some of these places, especially as we found that more rain had fallen in this locality, and that the t’samma, which would make us independent of water, would soon be big enough to use. On this part of the trip, to enable us to cover long distances, we cut our equipment down to the very lowest: a rifle, twenty-five cartridges, knife, compass, matches, etc., and a quart water-bottle, carrying absolutely no food or cooking utensils. We used to shoot a steenbok, cook the liver and kidneys on sticks over the fire, and the head in the ashes for breakfast, and bury the legs in the embers till they were roasted dry, and sling the meat on to our belt. No bread, occasionally salt—from a pan—a big enough salt-cellar for a glutton! Occasionally we found a few tiny berries that the Bushmen eat, but mostly these arearomatic and bitter, and as there are poisonous varieties much resembling them, we usually left them severely alone. Spiny cucumbers were also beginning to appear, mostly intensely bitter, but also eaten by the Bushmen. In this region, too, the grass was very luxuriant, and would have provided food for thousands of cattle, without deprivation to the huge flocks of gemsbok that wandered over it. Many of these wide “desert” stretches were extremely beautiful, being covered for miles with tall, thickly growing flowers, a species of campanula something like a fox-glove, growing to a height of three or four feet, and of beautiful and vivid colours of great variety. The scent of these vast parterres was faintly sweet in the daytime, but during the night it became almost overpowering, and I was told by Old Gert that Bushmen have a great objection to sleeping among them, believing that to do so means never to wake.
During the whole of our trip, so far, since we had left the border and entered the Reserve, we had seen no human being, nor even a spoor, but on the edge of one of these eastern pans we now discovered the remains of a recent Bushman camp, the small shelters of interwoven branches being simply constructed to afford a little shade during the hottest part of the day. They had apparently been gone only a day or two, trekking eastward, and the remains of full-grown t’samma showed that the fruit was already to be found in that direction. The little desert Ishmaels had probably seen our fires, and scented the presence of the white man, as I put it to van Reenen. He looked me up and down and said, “Well, yes! the wind’s been blowing from our direction!”
It is quite true that you cannot have many baths out of a quart of water a day, but I think he might have put it differently.
After about a week of this we trekked back to our camp, where we revelled inroster-kookand coffee and sugar, and compared notes with Telfer,who had tested several more pans north, as far as possible, without water. We had expected a Scotch cart with our next load of water, and the idea was to endeavour to get the oxen over as far as Aar Pan with a light load of stores, tools, etc.; but the waggon turned up without the smaller vehicle, and van Reenen and I decided to go back again, with as much as we could carry, and try to locate a big pan known by the Bushman name of “Koichie Ka,” near which was one of the pans where several diamonds had been picked up, whilst Telfer and Du Toit would come on with the cart a week later.
I shall describe this trip somewhat in detail, as it was typical of what happened almost daily afterwards. We carried almost 60 lb., each taking flour, coffee, tools, etc., and made very heavy going of it to Aar Pan, where we made for awit boomtree we had discovered on the top of one of the big dunes, and worked till late cutting branches, and making a sort of shelter to which we added our waterproof sheets—for this time we came prepared for rain, and we got it. By ten at night it was coming down in sheets, and a terrific thunderstorm burst over us, keeping us busy till daylight trying to keep the water out and the fire in, and being pestered the whole time by van Reenen’s pet aversion, scorpions. This continued well into the following morning, when, as soon as it somewhat lifted, we made a cache of our stores in the tree, and started towards the far-distant pan Koichie Ka. About noon the sun came out, and the whole desert steamed. We passed for hours through nothing but miles of the beautiful flowers I have described, and then came to a patch of broken dunes where the vegetation was scantier, and where we saw more snakes in an hour than I had ever seen before. Presumably the rain had disturbed them, and they were now drying themselves; at any rate, there they were, almost at every step, principally big yellow and brown cobras; but one very striking and, to me, entirely new variety was a very light yellow chap with round spots of a brilliantscarlet speckled over him, exactly like spots of blood. They were in every good-sized bush, in the meer-cat burrows that honeycombed the hollows, coiled round the tufts oftoagrass—in fact, they swarmed.
We had hoped to reach the big pan by nightfall, as there was a big krantz there where we could shelter; but it became evident that we could not do so, and we turned aside towards a small pan where a few bushes gave promise of a fire at least, for it became evident that we were in for rain again.
This rain was becoming monotonous, it seemed to follow us about, and the annoying part of it was that it did not relieve our anxiety as to water to any appreciable extent: no matter how it poured, the whole rainfall sank immediately into the sand or, where it was caught in a pan, became undrinkable brine almost immediately.
Moreover it meant that, to rest at all, we had to encroach on the precious hours of daylight, to say nothing of lying on the damp sand. And after another miserable and rainy night, I found to my consternation that I was in for a bout of fever, here, a day’s march from our few stores at Aar Pan even, and quite two from the camp! We started on again as soon as possible, for I argued that, if I was going to be ill, a krantz such as we expected to find at Koichie Ka would be a better place to lie up in than the dunes—more home-like, as it were. Van Reenen was all right, but unfortunately one of his shoes went wrong through being soaked, and soon the sole began to part company with the upper. And he had left hisvoorslaagat Aar Pan. Luckily I had some fancy native wire-work in my belt which, unravelled, served to keep sole and upper together, but neither of us was doing Marathon time that day. We found the pan about midday: one of the largest, almost a perfect circle, and with the krantz as Old Gert had described it. This rocky krantz we found to consist of deep red and yellow sandstone, apparently belonging to the Zwartmodder series. It flanked the northern edge of the pan, rising abruptlysome 60 feet, and was capped with concretionary limestone, which also covered the dunes behind it. It was honeycombed with caves, and there was evidence that it had swarmed with baboons, whose absence was probably accounted for by the fact that a pair of big leopards and their cubs were its present occupants. Their spoors showed that they were “at home,” and later we lighted a big fire and tried to smoke them out, besides firing a few shots into their cave; but luckily they did not respond to the invitation.
After a few hours’ rest and some quinine I felt better, but water was getting a pressing matter now, for though the pan was soft mud all over, we could find none, and our flasks were empty. At last we found a little liquid mud, so full of lime that it curdled into a sort of “curds and whey” when we tried to boil it. However, van Reenen shot a duiker, and we stewed some of its flesh in this semi-liquid, and made a sort of broth which appeased both hunger and thirst, and saved our little remaining water.
As no more could be found, however, and I was still groggy with fever and van Reenen had gone lame, we decided to get back to Aar Pan, if we could, and leave further exploration for a later day. So, after a night in the rocks, we turned back, taking the last of the liquid mud in our bottles, and chewing sorrel and other grasses to allay our thirst. The journey back was painful to a degree; we could only go slowly, and as nightfall found us still a long way off Aar Pan and water, we struggled on most of the night by compass and the stars.
Then we slept an hour or so, but were too anxious to sleep much, and were wide awake before sunrise, waiting for daylight to show us if we had kept the path. Luckily we had, and soon were climbing the big dune at Aar Pan which separated us from water. Suddenly van Reenen stopped and pointed. “Camels!” he said.
There were two of them, hobbled, feeding closeto us, and at our tree we found quite a party—two police troopers, Telfer, and several “boys.”
The police had been sent from Witdraai, their post on the Kuruman River, to examine our permits, and their coming was extremely welcome. Their big shambling mounts carry a big load, besides the rider, with ease, and their saddle-bags were full of all kinds of luxuries. Soon we were feasting on coffee andrealbread and tinned salmon, and began to realise that there was something in civilisation after all.
After a few hours they left us to patrol towards Tilrey Pan, through a country unknown to them, and with them went Telfer, who hoped thus to be enabled to reach a far-distant pan which Old Gert called “Wolverdanse” (Wolf’s Dance), where lay the green stones thought to be emeralds, and which we feared we should never reach on foot.
The patrol dropped him a few miles away from us about a week later. He had not succeeded in finding the emeralds, but he had a finer collection of bruises and blisters from sitting on and falling off the camels than he ever possessed before.
Meanwhile we thoroughly explored Aar Pan and several small pans near, finding more Kimberlite, but being handicapped by the utter impossibility of washing the ground. Our food ran short, and we had a very rough time; but at length our cart turned up with food and tools, and the first post we had had since leaving Upington. The newspapers contained the news of Scott’s death, and the story of his heroism and sufferings made us feel ashamed of having grumbled at our own few privations.
Unfortunately, the water in the small pit had now shrunk to a few bucketfuls of bad-smelling liquid, so full of insects as to be almost undrinkable; and as no rain fell in the pan, and t’samma was not yet available, we had to make up our minds to abandon the camp, and make an attempt to establish a new water-base somewhere along the Kuruman Rivertill t’samma gave us a better opportunity of reaching the farthest pans.
We therefore filled our bottles, gave the oxen the rest of the liquid mud, and trekked due west, having first sent a “boy” to the main camp to warn the water-waggon to take back our belongings there.
Before leaving, van Reenen made up his mind to shoot the big puff that lay in the deepest shaft beside the little pool of water which we had not touched—for we feared that some day a passer-by might see the water and not the snake, and scramble down to his death. So van Reenen lay peering down the shaft for an hour, till at last the big brute glided out of his hole to the water, and a bullet cut him nearly in two.
“He’s finished, anyway,” said my pal, and so he was; but that puff-adder was yet to revenge himself on me in a very decided manner.
We trekked all day through a magnificent grass country, the dunes being almost waist-high in it, and I could understand the bitter complaints of some of the border farmers that the gemsbok are given the best part of the country.
We reached a well in the Molopo the following morning, and at a border farm near we obtained horses, and rode up to Witdraai, the nearest police post on the Kuruman River, to get information as to the prospects of t’samma, etc., eastward of that place.