As soon as the horses were ready, our travellers set out in chase of the gnoos and quaggas, which were collected to the westward of the caravan. Bremen, Swanevelt, and Omrah were mounted, and ten of the Hottentots followed with their guns, and the Korannas on foot; among the others, Big Adam, who had been explaining to those who had never seen the gnoos the manner in which he used to kill them.
The herd permitted them to approach within two hundred yards of them, and then, after curvetting and prancing, and galloping in small circles, they stood still at about the same distance, looking, with curiosity and anger mixed, at the horsemen. After a time, they took to their heels and scoured the plain for about two miles, when they again stopped, tossing their heads and manes, and stamping as if in defiance.
The mounted party remained quiet till those on foot had again drawn near, and the Hottentots, firing their guns, drove the herd within shot of our travellers’ guns, and three of the gnoos fell, while the others bounded off to a greater distance; but as they neared the caravan, they again started back, and were again closed in by the whole party.
The Hottentots now advanced cautiously, creeping as near as they could to the animals, whose attention was directed to the horsemen. The Hottentots were nearly within range, when Omrah, who was mounted on the Major’s spare horse, fastened to the ramrod of the Major’s rifle a red bandanna handkerchief, which he usually wore round his head, and, separating quickly from the rest of the horsemen, walked his horse to where Big Adam was creeping along to gain a shot, and stationed himself behind him, waving the red handkerchief at the animals. Omrah was well aware that a gnoo is as much irritated at a red handkerchief as a bull, and as soon as he commenced waving it, one of the largest males stepped out in that direction, pawing the ground and preparing for a charge.
Big Adam, who had no idea that Omrah was so occupied behind him, now rose to have a shot, and just as he rose the gnoo made his charge, and Big Adam, being between the gnoo and the horse which Omrah rode, was of course the party against whom the animal’s choler was raised.
Omrah, as soon as the animal charged, had wheeled round and galloped away, while in the mean time Big Adam, perceiving the animal rushing at him, lost all presence of mind, his gun went off without effect, and he turned tail; the horns of the gnoo were close upon him, when of a sudden, to the surprise of those who were looking on, Big Adam disappeared, and the gnoo passed over where he had been.
“Why, what has become of him?” said Alexander, laughing.
“I don’t know, but I think he has had a wonderful escape,” replied the Major: “he has disappeared like a ghost through a trap-door.”
“But I see his heels,” cried Swinton, laughing; “he has fallen into an ant-eater’s hole, depend upon it; that mischievous little urchin might have caused his death.”
“It was only to make him prove his steady aim which he was boasting so much about,” replied the Major; “but stop a moment; I will bring down that gallant little animal, and then we will look for Big Adam.”
But before the Major could get near enough to the gnoo, which was still tearing up the ground and looking for his adversary, Omrah, who had put by the handkerchief, advanced with the Major’s rifle, and brought the animal down. A volley was at the same time discharged at the herd by the Hottentots, and three more fell, after which the remainder scampered away, and were soon out of sight.
They then rode up to where Big Adam had disappeared, and found him, as Swinton had supposed, in a deep ant-eater’s hole, head downwards, and bellowing for help. His feet were just above the surface, and that was all; the Hottentots helped him out, and Big Adam threw himself on his back, and seemed exhausted with fright and having been so long in a reversed position, and was more vexed at the laugh which was raised against him.
The gnoos were soon cut up, and when the Hottentots had taken away as much as they required, the rest of the carcasses were made over to the hungry Korannas. Swinton shook his head at Omrah, who pretended that he did not understand why, until the laughter of Alexander and the Major was joined in by Swinton himself.
As they had pretty well fatigued their horses in the chase, they resolved to return to the caravan, and keep them as fresh as they could for future service. They dined and supped on the flesh of the gnoos, which was approved of, and after supper Alexander said—“And now, Swinton, if you feel inclined, the Major and I will be very glad to hear your history of the Mantatees.”
“With pleasure,” replied Swinton. “The assemblage of tribes known as the Mantatees or Invaders, according to the best authorities we can collect, inhabited the countries to the westward of the Zoolu territory, in the same latitude, which is that of Delagoa Bay. As all these tribes subsist almost entirely upon the flesh and the milk of their cattle, if deprived of them, they are driven to desperation, and must either become robbers in their turn, or perish by hunger. Such was the case of the Mantatees. Unable to withstand the attacks of the Zoolus, they were driven from their country, and joined their forces with others who had shared the same fate.
“Such was the origin of the Mantatees, who, although they had not courage to withstand the attacks of the Zoolus, were stimulated by desperation and famine to a most extraordinary courage in the attacks which they made upon others.
“Forming an immense body, now that they were collected together, accompanied by their wives and children, and unable to procure the necessary subsistence, it is certain that their habits were so far changed that they at last became cannibals, and were driven to prey upon the dead bodies of their enemies, or the flesh of their comrades who fell in the combats.
“The Bechuana tribes, who are the Caffres of the interior, were the first assailed, their towns sacked and burnt, and their cattle seized and devoured. They proceeded on to the Wankeets, one of the Damara tribes, who inhabit the western coast to the northward of the Namaqua-land; but the Wankeets were a brave people, and prepared for them, and the Mantatees were driven back with great slaughter. Astounded at their defeat, they turned to the southward, and invaded the Bechuana country.
“At that time our missionaries had established themselves at Koranna, and when the report of the Mantatees advancing was brought to them, the Bechuanas were in a great consternation; for although finer-looking men than the eastern Caffres, they are not by any means so brave and warlike.
“As the advance of these people would have been the ruin of the mission, as well as the destruction of the tribe, who were afraid to encounter them, Mr. M, the missionary, determined upon sending for the assistance of the Griquas, the people whom I have before mentioned, and who had not only horses, but were well-armed. The Griquas came under their chief, Waterboer, and marched against the enemy, accompanied by a large army of Bechuanas, who, encouraged by the presence of the Griquas, now went forth to the combat.
“The Mantatees had at that time advanced as far [as], and had taken possession of, Litakoo, a Bechuana town, containing 16,000 inhabitants; and I will now give, as nearly as I can recollect it, the account of Mr. M, the missionary at Kuruman, who accompanied the Griquas to propose and effect, if it were possible, an amicable arrangement with the invaders.
“He told me that as they proceeded with a small party, ahead of the Griqua force, to effect their purpose, they passed by numbers of the enemy, who had advanced to the pools to drink, and had there sunk down and expired from famine. As they neared the mass of the enemy, they found that all the cattle which they had captured were enclosed in the centre of a vast multitude. They attempted a parley, but the enemy started forward, and hurled their spears with the most savage fury, and they were compelled to retreat, finding no hopes of obtaining a parley.
“The next day it was decided that the Griquas should advance. They numbered about one hundred well-mounted and well-armed men. The enemy flew at them with terrible howls, hurling their javelins and clubs; their black dismal appearance, their savage fury, and their hoarse loud voices producing a strange effect. The Griquas, to prevent their being surrounded, very wisely retreated.
“It was at last decided that the Griquas should fire, and it was hoped that as the Mantatees had never seen the effects of fire-arms they would be humbled and alarmed, and thus further bloodshed might be prevented. Many of the Mantatees fell; but, although the survivors looked with astonishment upon the dead and their wounded warriors writhing in the dust, they flew with lion-like vengeance at the horsemen, wrenching the weapons from the hands of their dying companions, to replace those which they had already discharged at their antagonists.
“As those who thus stepped out from the main body to attack the Griquas were the chiefs of the Mantatees, and many of them were killed, their deaths, one after the other, disheartened the whole body.
“After the Griquas had commenced the attack, the Bechuana army came up and assisted with their poisoned arrows, with which they plied the enemy; but a small body of the fierce Mantatees, sallying out, put the whole of the Bechuanas to flight.
“After a combat of two hours and a half, the Griquas, finding their ammunition failing, determined, at great risk, to charge the whole body. They did so, and the Mantatees gave way, and fled in a westerly direction; but they were intercepted by the Griquas, and another charge being made, the whole was pell-mell and confusion.
“Mr. M says that the scene which now presented itself was most awful, and the state of suspense most cruel. The undulating country around was covered with warriors—Griquas, Mantatees and Bechuanas, all in motion—so that it was impossible to say who were enemies and who were friends. Clouds of dust rose from the immense masses, some flying, others pursuing; and to their screams and yells were added the bellowing of the oxen, the shouts of the yet unvanquished warriors, the groans of the dying, and the wails of women and of children. At last the enemy retreated to the town, which they set in flames, to add to the horror of the scene.
“Then another desperate struggle ensued, the Mantatees attempted to enclose the Griquas in the burning town; but not succeeding, they fled precipitately. Strange to say, the Mantatee forces were divided into two parts, and during the time that the Griquas engaged the one, the other remained in the town, having such confidence in the former that they did not come to their assistance.
“When the town was set on fire, both armies united, and retreated together to the northward in a body of not less than 40,000 warriors. As soon as the Mantatees retreated, the Bechuanas commenced the work of slaughter. Women and children were butchered without mercy; but as for the wounded Mantatees, it appeared as if nothing would make them yield. There were many instances of an individual being surrounded by fifty Bechuanas, but as long as life remained he fought.
“Mr. M says that he saw more than one instance of a Mantatee fighting wildly against numbers, with ten or twelve arrows and spears pierced in his body. Struggling with death, the men would rally, raise themselves from the ground, discharge their weapons, and fall dead, their revengeful and hostile spirit only ceasing when life was extinct.”
“And yet these same people permitted their own country to be taken from them by the Zoolus.”
“Yes, it was so; but want and necessity had turned them into desperate warriors.”
“I wonder they never thought of going back and recovering their own country. They would have been a match for the Zoolus. Is that the end of their history, Swinton?”
“No, not quite. But perhaps you are tired?”
“Oh, no. Pray go on.”
“The Mantatees, although defeated by the Griquas, soon recovered their courage, and intelligence came that they were about to make a descent upon Kuruman, where the missionaries had their station. The Mantatees, having been informed that the Griquas had gone home, now determined to revenge themselves upon the Bechuanas, whom they considered but as the dust under their feet.
“On this information, Mr. M wrote to Waterboer, who commanded the Griquas, requesting his immediate return; but Waterboer replied that an immense body of Mantatees were coming down upon the Griquas by the Val or Yellow River, and that they were forced to remain, to defend their own property, advising Mr. M to retreat with his family to the Griqua-town, and put themselves under their protection.
“As they could no longer remain, the mission station was abandoned, and the missionaries, with their wives and families, retreated to Griqua-town. They had not, however, been long at Griqua-town before news arrived that both the bodies of Mantatees had altered their routes. One portion of them went eastward, towards the country from which they had been driven by the Zoolus, and another, it appears, took possession of the country near the sources of the Orange River, where for many years they carried on a predatory warfare with the tribes in that district. At last a portion of them were incorporated, and settled down on that part which is now known as the Mantatee new country; the remainder made an irruption into the eastern Caffre country, where they were known as the Ficani.”
“And what became of them?”
“They defeated one or two of the Caffre chiefs, and the Caffres implored the assistance of the English colonists, which was granted, and a large armed force was sent out against the invaders. They were found located—for they had built a town near the sources of the Umtata River. The Caffres joined with all their forces, and the Ficani were surprised. A horrid slaughter took place; muskets, artillery, and Congreve rockets were poured upon the unfortunate wretches, who were hemmed in on all sides by the Caffres, and the unfortunate Ficani may be said to have been exterminated, for the Caffres spared neither man, woman, nor child. Such is the history of the Mantatees; their destruction was horrible, but perhaps unavoidable.”
“Very true,” observed Alexander; “I cannot help thinking that desolating contests like these are permitted by a controlling Providence as chastisements, yet with a gracious end; for, surely it was better that they should meet with immediate death, than linger till famine put an end to their misery. This is certain, that they must have been destroyed, or others destroyed to make room for them. In either case a great sacrifice of life was to be incurred. War, dreadful as it is in detail, appears to be one of the necessary evils of human existence, and a means by which we do not increase so rapidly as to devour each other.
“I don’t know whether you have made the observation, but it appears to me the plague and cholera are almost necessary in the countries where they break out; and it is very remarkable that the latter disease never made its appearance in Europe (at least not for centuries, I may say) until after peace had been established, and the increase of population was so rapid.
“During the many years that Europe was devastated and the population thinned by war, we had no cholera, and but little of one or two other epidemics which have since been very fatal. What I mean to infer is, that the hand of Providence may be seen in all this. Thus sanguinary wars and the desolating ravages of disease, which are in themselves afflictive visitations, and probably chastisements for national sins, may nevertheless have the effect, in some cases, of preventing the miseries which result from an undue increase of population.”
“You may be quite right, Alexander,” observed Swinton; “the ways of Heaven are inscrutably mysterious, and when we offer up prayers for the removal of what may appear to be a heavy calamity, we may be deprecating that which in the end may prove a mercy.”
“One thing I could not help remarking in your narrative, Swinton,” observed the Major, “which is the position of the missionaries during this scene of terror. You passed it slightly over, but it must have been most trying.”
“Most surely it was.”
“And yet I have not only read but heard much said against them, and strong opposition made to subscriptions for their support.”
“I grant it, but it is because people know that a great deal of money has been subscribed, and do not know the uses to which it is applied. They hear reports read, and find perhaps that the light of the Gospel has but as yet glimmered in one place or another; that in other places all labour has hitherto been thrown away. They forget that it is the grain of mustard-seed which is to become a great tree, and spread its branches; they wish for immoderate returns, and are therefore disappointed. Of course I cannot give an opinion as to the manner in which the missions are conducted in other countries; but as I have visited most of the missions in these parts, I can honestly assert, and I think you have already yourselves seen enough to agree with me, that the money intrusted to the societies is not thrown away or lavishly expended; the missionaries labour with their own hands, and almost provide for their own support.”
“There I agree with you, Swinton,” replied Alexander; “but what are the objections raised against them? for now that I have seen them with my own eyes, I cannot imagine what they can be.”
“The objections which I have heard, and have so often attempted to refute, are, that the generality of missionaries are a fanatical class of men, who are more anxious to inculcate the peculiar tenets of their own sects and denominations than the religion of our Saviour’; that most of them are uneducated and vulgar men—many of them very intemperate and very injudicious—some few of them of bad moral character; and that their exertions, if they have used them—whether to civilise or to Christianise the people among whom they are sent—have not been followed by any commensurate results.”
“And now let us have your replies to these many objections.”
“It is no doubt true that the missionaries who are labouring among the savages of the interior are, many, if not most of them, people of limited education. Indeed, the major portion of them have been brought up as mechanics. But I much question whether men of higher attainments and more cultivated minds would be better adapted to meet the capacities of unintellectual barbarians. A highly-educated man may be appreciated among those who are educated themselves; but how can he be appreciated by the savage? On the contrary, the savage looks with much more respect upon a man who can forge iron, repair his weapons, and excite his astonishment by his cunning workmanship; for then the savage perceives and acknowledges his superiority, which in the man of intellect he would never discover.
“Besides, admitting that it would be preferable to employ persons of higher mental attainments, where are they to be found? Could you expect, when so many labourers are required in the vineyard, a sufficient number of volunteers among the young men brought up at the universities? Would they be able to submit to those privations, and incur those hardships, to which the African missionaries are exposed? Would they be able to work hard and labour for their daily bread, or be willing to encounter such toil and such danger as must be encountered by those who are sent here? I fear not. And allow me here to remark, that at the first preaching of Christianity it was not talented and educated men who were selected by our Saviour; out of the twelve, the Apostle Paul was the only one who had such claims.
“If we had beheld the Galilean fishermen mending their nets, should we have ever imagined that those humble labourers were to be the people who should afterwards regenerate the world?—should overthrow the idolatries and crumble the superstitions of ancient empires and kingdoms?—and that what they—uneducated, but, we admit, divinely inspired and supported—had taught should be joyfully received, as it is now, we may say, from the rising to the setting of the sun, to the utmost boundaries of the earth?”
“Most truly and most admirably argued, Swinton,” replied Alexander. “The Almighty, as if to prove how insignificant in his sight is all human power, has often made use of the meanest instruments to accomplish the greatest ends. Who knows but that even our keeping holy the Sabbath-day in the desert may be productive of some good, and be the humble means of advancing the Divine cause? We must ever bear in mind the counsel, ‘In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good.’”
“Surely so,” replied Swinton; “the natives consider us as a superior race; they see our worship, and they are led to think that must be right which they perceive is done by those to whom they look up as their superiors. It may induce them to inquire and to receive information—eventually to be enrolled among the followers of our Saviour. It is, however, not to be denied that in some few instances persons have been chosen for the office of missionaries who have proved themselves unworthy; but that must and will ever be the case where human agents are employed. But it argues no more against the general respectability and utility of the missionaries as a body, than the admission of the traitor Judas amongst the apostles. To the efficacy of their works, and their zeal in the cause, I myself, having visited the stations, have no hesitation in bearing testimony. Indeed I cannot but admire the exemplary fortitude, the wonderful patience and perseverance, which the missionaries have displayed.
“These devoted men are to be found in the remotest deserts, accompanying the wild and wandering savages from place to place, suffering from hunger and from thirst, destitute of almost every comfort, and at times without even the necessaries of life. Some of them have without murmuring spent their whole lives in such service; and yet their zeal is set down as fanaticism by those who remain at home, and assert that the money raised for their equipment is thrown away. Happily, they have not looked for their reward in this world, but have built their hopes upon that which is to come.”
“That the people who joined the Mission stations have become more civilised, and that they are very superior to their countrymen, is certain,” observed the Major; “but have you seen any proof of Christianity having produced any remarkably good effect among the natives?—I mean one that might be brought forward as convincing evidence to those who have shown themselves inimical or lukewarm in the cause.”
“Yes,” replied Swinton, “the history of Africaner is one; and there are others, although not so prominent as that of the party to whom I refer.”
“Well, Swinton, you must now be again taxed. You must give us the history of Africaner.”
“That I will, with pleasure, that you may be able to narrate it, when required, in support of the missions. Africaner was a chief, and a descendant of chiefs of the Hottentot nation, who once pastured their own flocks and herds on their own native hills, within a hundred miles of Cape Town. As the Dutch colonists at the Cape increased, so did they, as Mr. Fairburn has stated to Alexander, dispossess the Hottentots of their lands, and the Hottentots, unable to oppose their invaders, gradually found themselves more and more remote from the possessions of their fore-fathers.
“After a time, Africaner and his diminished clan found themselves compelled to join and take service under a Dutch boor, and for some time proved himself a most faithful shepherd in looking after and securing the herds of his employer. Had the Dutch boor behaved with common humanity, not to say gratitude, towards those who served him so well, he might now have been alive; but, like all the rest of his countrymen, he considered the Hottentots as mere beasts of burden, and at any momentary anger they were murdered and hunted down as if they were wild animals.
“Africaner saw his clan daily diminished by the barbarity of his feudal master and at last resolved upon no further submission. As the Bushmen were continually making attempts upon the cattle of the boor, Africaner and his people had not only been well trained to fire-arms, but had them constantly in their possession. His assumed master, having an idea that there would be a revolt, resolved upon sending a portion of Africaner’s people to a distant spot, where he intended to secure them, and by their destruction weaken the power of the clan.
“This, as he was a sort of magistrate, he had the power to enforce; but Africaner, suspecting his views, resolved to defeat them. Order after order was sent to the huts of Africaner and his people. They positively refused to comply. They requested to be paid for their long services, and be permitted to retire further into the interior. This was sternly denied, and they were ordered to appear at the house of the boor. Fearful of violence, yet accustomed to obey his order, Africaner and his brothers went up; but one of his brothers concealed his gun under his cloak. On their arrival, the boor came out and felled Africaner to the ground. His brother immediately shot the boor with his gun, and thus did the miscreant meet with the just reward of his villainies and murders.
“The wife, who had witnessed the murder of her husband, shrieked and implored mercy; they told her that she need not be alarmed, but requested that the guns and ammunition in the house should be delivered up to them, which was immediately done. Africaner then hastened back to his people, collected them and all his cattle, with what effects they could take with them, and directed his course to the Orange River.
“He was soon out of the reach of his pursuers, for it required time in so scattered a district to collect a sufficient force. Africaner fixed his abode upon the banks of the Orange River, and afterwards a chief ceding to him his dominion in Great Namaqua-land, the territory became his by right as well as by conquest. I think I had better leave off now; it is getting late, and we must to bed, if we are to start early to-morrow morning.”
“We will have mercy upon you, Swinton, and defer our impatience,” said the Major. “Good-night to you, and may you not have a lion’s serenade.”
“No, I hope not; their music is too loud to be agreeable;—good-night.”