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“A Few Reminiscences of My Life”





By the late Mrs. Latham, 1879.







This transcript is unchanged and left in its original form.
Spelling or syntax, therefore, is left as is.


This is often referred to as the ‘Latham Diary’.






Original kept by : Frank & Tordis Bassingthwaighte
Hermanus, South Africa.

Addendum & Footnotes done by : Frank & Tordis Bassingthwaighte
Hermanus, South Africa.

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“A Few Reminiscences of My Life”
By the late Mrs. Latham, 1879.[1]




Francis James Bassingthwaighte with his wife Rebecca (neé Dixon), their eldest son, James Benjamin, and their daughter, Ledevia Maria. 1861.
 Frank Bassingthwaighte en Becky (neé Dixon; jonger suster van die dagboekskrywer, Jane Latham) met kinders.



I recall to mind the day we left Cape Town for the far interior. As my father[2] and his partner[3] had decided on opening “Walwich Bay” and the neighbourhood to trade and so as to be quite in the knowledge of the country they decided on an overland journey there. No trifling undertaking at any time, but something immense in those early times.

We left one Saturday morning in October 1843, after about a month’s constant preparations, with three wagons heavily loaded with provisions, luggage, and some trading goods, so as to have the means of bartering for slaughter things on the road. We had also a fine horse “Dot and Gown” which had won the races as my father wanted to improve the breed of horses they were taking along with them also other animals to improve the breed of cattle. It was rather an unusual sight such a large party leaving at once for such a journey I suppose, for many people came to see and wonder. A few friends came with us as far as Salt River, one of whom was my father’s Cape Town partner Mr. J. Lawton[4] a Merchant, also Miss Aitchison and her mother, and some of Mrs. Morris’ relations.

All went well till a little after dusk when the wagons got into heavy sand and the poor oxen could hardly pull them, so we got out to walk. My father who had gone on ahead on horseback did not know we had got out, and Mr. Morris and the driver did not stop the wagons when they should have, to let us get up again, perhaps they forgot we were out walking in the heavy sand. How it was I do not know, I only know we were quite knocked up. Mrs. Morris carrying her baby, a boy of less than a year old and my mother with her baby (my brother Tom) just six or seven weeks old, and we children scarcely able to keep up with them. At last near the out-span place the wagons stopped for us. Such was our first experience on this long and arduous journey of eight months[5] through the wilderness.

It is only fair to say that my father did not wish us to take the overland journey but wait and come by sea to Walvich Bay, as he had arranged for a vessel to be sent with suplies to meet us on our arrival there, but my mother preferred going with him for many reasons saying she would share all the dangers with him, but little did she or any of us think what hardships we would encounter before we reached our destination or get out of the country again.

The next occurrence I remember was one of the disselbooms of the wagon breaking, and a farmer helping to mend it, and kindly helping us up a hill by spanning in some of his oxen. Another day, while outspanned, some of the blankets were put to air and a large snake came to one of them, but just then a Boer riding up tried to kill it, but it was too quick and got into its hole. The Boer, however, got hold of its tail and had hard work to pull it out and kill it. A few days after that, the missionary Mr. Jackson overtook us and as he had only one wagon he left us next day, being in a hurry to reach his station, and family. Next we came to the farm “Ontcomst” where the farmer and his wife were most kind. We stayed over there a week or ten days and as his harvest was ripe and they were short of men, my father took our men and helped to cut off the grain. Here my mother and Mrs. Morris took lessons in bread making and we got a large “calabash” for holding drink water which my father prized very much and which I had the misfortune to crack some time after and got a well deserved reprimand for my carelessness.

Another day, we were near another farm, where we got a lot of eggs and delicious fresh butter and bread which we enjoyed very much. One morning we outspanned at a periodical river, and under the shade of the trees mother wished to give the children a bath, the water looked so cool and clean although it was only dug out of the sand, but oh! I shall never forget how sticky and nasty our hair became, the water was so brack. My poor mother was in despair trying to get our hair right again.

Then to add to her perplexities, the first bread they had attempted to make that morning had risen to such an extent that it was going over the baking pot and became slightly sour. Experience taught them better soon.

We reached the Kameesberg[6] and as the mountain up to Lillyfontain[7] was rather out of the way and the road not the best we left the waggons near “Horngat” and Mr. Jackson kindly brought his waggon and insisted on taking our whole party to his house. As we would have some delay here getting the men rested and having rusks and bread made, and a variety of other arrangements, besides the Superintendent of Missions, Mr. Hodgeson, who had intentions of going over the Orange River, to send some missionaries to Damaraland had asked us to wait for him here, as he wanted to be of our party going over the Orange River as he was an intimate friend, but when the post came in we got letters with the sad news that he was very ill and could not come, so we left within a few days, as we were anxious to get on as we feared the river might get full, and which would make it most difficult to cross. Another thing much to be regretted was we had to leave the horse “Dot and Gown” here to be sent on after us, but which was never done, and Lillyfontein profitted by getting good horses.

They were constantly talking over their plans[8] about crossing the Orange River if it should prove to be full. Mr. Jackson used all his powers of persuasion to induce my father to give up the journey and stop and open Hondeklip Bay as there was no harbour near here and the Boers were just beginning to sow corn and besides all supplies had to be brought over land from Cape Town. Oh! what a pity! he did not take this good advice, what a world of suffering would have been spared us. After some days of trekking, we reached the neighbourhood of the Orange River and the road became very heavy sand and the weather very hot. The man, with the extra oxen was sent on ahead with strict orders not to stop but to travel through the night so as to get to the river in the morning. But Hottentot like, of course, he went to sleep and the cattle got scattered and it was a long time before they were got in hand again, being found in small lots as they found their way to the water. The man nearly died of thirst. He managed some days after to find his way to the River where a verft was and as he was speechless with thirst, the people had to give him water with a spoon and with care brought him round. What suffering the day we trekked down through the mountain gorge to the River with thirst! Having only a little water left in a small vatje mother had to give each of us a spoonful at a time and our favourite dog Dash poor thing! could not walk on the burning sand and bear the thirst so he jumped on to the waggon and we had not the heart to turn him out, so he got his spoonful of water too.
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It was about 3 or 4 o’clock[9] in the afternoon when we saw the welcome sight, the tops of the green trees on the banks of the Orange River and as soon as the waggon stopped we rushed down to see how high the water was, and what a beautiful sight it was! Heated, thirsty and tired as we were it refreshed us at once. We perceived the water was rising and tho’ it was possible for waggons to go through we were all too tired and it was too late to attempt it. However, father and Mr. Morris decided to prepare to cross as soon as it was light next morning. They accordingly moved all the things from under the cartels and packed them on to the cartels so that they should not get wet. Of course there was then no room to sleep in the waggon, so this was our first night of sleeping in the open air. It was such a strange sensation to wake in the night and hear the jackals screaming and see the stars overhead. Although they commenced so early and worked so hard, they only succeeded in getting the last waggon over about four o’clock in the afternoon, and then the River had risen so high they could hardly succeed in getting through, and by dusk it was flowing from bank to bank.[10] How fortunate we did not come a day later or we would have had to wait weeks or make rafts to cross with. As it was, we were detained for three weeks for the lost cattle and the man whom the Hottentots brought through on a large log of wood with a man on each side of him riding a wooden horse as they called the log of wood with a peg in front to hold on to and paddling with the other hand. The oxen were swum through with a great deal of trouble. We spent our Xmas Day[11] here and it was well we had such fine shady trees, for the weather was most insufferably hot. We sometimes amused ourselves by searching for agates and other pretty pebbles.

At last we made another start and after a very heavy trek through deep sand we reached Sandfontein a few hours from Nisbet-bath[12] the Mission Station. Here I noticed a most wretched old Hottentot woman, who was cutting up meat we had given her with a piece of white flint. I asked her why she cut with that and she looked at me with surprise, and said, it was their sort of knife, she had no other.

About eight o’clock one fine moonlight evening we reached Nisbet-bath. The people of the place saluting us in the usual Hottentot fashion of fireing off guns, which they kept up from the time we came near the place till we stopped near the Mission premises. The Missionary, Mr. Tindall, had gone to Cape Town for supplies, but as we had seen him there before we left, he had kindly given us the keys of the house, and told us to take any vegetables out of their small garden, that was fit for use. Here we were detained trying to get men and guides and waiting for rain to fall, as the country was very dry. We were here more than two months[13]. In the meantime the Mission Party had arrived. Mr. Ridgill for Nisbet-bath, and Mr. Tindall and Mr. Haddy[14] to proceed to open a mission in Damaraland. We left before them as Mr. Morris only knew the road as far as Nisbet-bath, we had to take Captain Alexander’s book for our principal guide. We had also got Saul Sheapard for our interpreter. He was the Damara boy Captain Alexander mentions in his book. He had taken him to Scotland[15] and given him some schooling and now he was going back to his country as our interpreter and was he not a lazy scamp. I remember how he used to go behind a bush and give us a dose of his long loud prayers of a morning. Goodness forgive me, if I wrong him, but I hate all hypocrisy, give me quiet and in earnest religion. Near a place called Wartal, one of the disselbooms broke and they had to go some distance up the river to get a tree with suitable wood to make another one. At another place we got a stock of milch goats and slaughter sheep.

After some weary travelling we reached the Fish River. One day we came to a Hottentot village, but all the people had run away. One man, however, was induced to stand and speak to the interpreter. He said they ran away because they thought we were a party sent by Government to avenge the murder of Mr. Therfall the Missionary, and this happened more than once, causing us some inconveniece or annoyance.

One day after a long consultation between Mr. Morris and my father, they decided on separating : one taking the most direct road to Jonkers and Walwich Bay, as they feared the vessel with the supplies, would arrive and not know what to do if one of them was not there in time to receive them, and one to take the road to Amarals (Chief of Hottentots).

We accordingly parted company, and as my father could not speak Dutch he kept Saul with him. One evening we came to a place noted for lions, and as we had to travel through the night, to get to water my father said my sister and me[16] had to go to the other waggon, where we slept. We were not long in it when it was said lions were about, so father had the loose oxen driven between the two waggons for safety, his waggon going before them and our behind. But with all their precautions a lion sprang on an ox and killed it. Our waggon had to turn a little out of the road to avoid him. Another time our bull killed or rather badly wounded a lion. While drinking at a water hole the lion sprang on him and his horns being rather sharp, he stuck the lion getting him fast between himself and the bank. Another day, we heard there were a great many spring-buck in those parts and sure enough we got a plain with thousands of them. As one of the men said they were as thick as grass, the waggons could scarcely get through if they did not open on each side so as to leave a road. I have seen nothing like it since.

We came to an old man’s verft he was not a Hottentot, I don’t know what he was. His name was Arnold, he had a garden and his waggon sail or cover was made of springbuck skins. He seemed rather intelligent and father got a lot of information from him. Next we came to Amarals place (since called Wesly Vale)[17]. He was an old Bastard who had formerly come from the Cape Colony. His wife was a clean respectable looking old woman, who formerly lived with a Boer family. They showed us many kindnesses.

Here we first saw some Berg Damaras (Herero) and we were the first white people they had ever seen, and they used to come and look at my sister[18] and me and have disputes among themselves about our hair. Some saying it was loose and something we had put on for ornament and others that it was our own hair; and then to decide the dispute, came saying “arre canda” (if you please) and give it a gentle pull to make sure it was our own hair. We amused ourselves by frightening them with our dolls, they at first thought them human beings. We did not stay here long, about a week as father was anxious to get to the Bay, our provisions being nearly exhausted. Amaral gave us some men to accompany us to the Red Nation[19] then living a couple of days journey from Jonkers.[20] A very rough lot even for Hottentots. Here I saw a native buried and was so surprised at the shape of the grave, which was made with a sort of shelf in the side, on which the body was put, then flat stones were put against it and bushes so as to keep out the sand. I thought it rather a good plan they of course not having a coffin.

Whilst outspanned one day there was a cry of rhinoceros being in sight, and father and some of the men rode after them. We proceeded on our journey, and reached a plain on which a great variety of game was. We got quite close to them, as they did not seem to know what to make of the waggons, some standing and gazing at us, as if they thought we were some sort of game. We came up to a great dust and found it was caused by the rhinoceros, one was scraping up the ground, so the driver took the gun and fired at them, one ran away and the other dropped down dead, being one father and his party had wounded early in the afternoon. We of course all ran to see and examine the immense beast, and my sister wishing to know if he had big teeth, put her hand into his mouth, and I had a mind to climb on his back, but the men said we had better be careful as he might not be quite dead, but only stunned. As it was near sunset we had to leave it without taking any of the meat or the skin as father would be waiting for us at the outspan place. I believe some of the Red Folk profited by it as they sent and got the meat.
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View of the city (Windhoek) in 1908/09 in front of the Auas Mountains. • Photo: Dieter Voigts

As last we reached Windhoek or Jonkers place one Saturday morning, and found Mrs. Morris and her two children there. Mr. Morris having gone to the Bay on horseback to meet the vessel, and it was well that he did for they arrived in the Bay two days before him. Mr. Lawton[21] had sent a schooner and cutter with plenty of provisions and barter goods. Mrs. Morris’s waggon was drawn near Jonker’s house, as she had been left in his care. Our waggons were also brought there[22] with the usual firing of guns as a welcome and salute. During the day the Rhenish Missionaries, Mr. Kleinschmidt, Mr. Hahn and Mr. Bam, who had come there some months before to commence a Mission[23], came to our waggons to make our acquaintance, and kindly invited us to spend the next day (Sunday) with them, which we did. They only had a Hartebeast house erected in which they lived, and it was surprising how neat and comfortable they had made it inside. Their provisions were also nearly finished but in honour of our visit, they had made a pot-loaf of bread, which was a great treat as ours had been finished some weeks before. My poor mother especially suffered on the present diet having to nurse her baby[24] and not being very strong. In a few days time we left for Walwich Bay; Jonker[25] and about 40 of them accompanying us, as there was no waggon road made. Sometimes we had to outspan for a couple of hours or a day, while they cut down trees or rolled stones out of the way. Jonker and party generally went on ahead of a morning before the waggons and left a man on the road till the waggons came up then he went on again, and if there was a dangerous place father and Jonker waited to see us safely over it and then went on again. Of course plenty of game was shot to supply the party with food. It was rather a curious sight to see so many fires at night and the people cooking and relating their hunting adventures. They used to talk half the night sometimes and then their packing and saddling their oxen and starting. There were some comical and strange scenes enacted.

After a wearisome journey over the Narope flats we reached the Kusip River,[26] and one of the waggons got upset. It was rather remarkable after our long journey that this should happen just at the last days, after having gone through such dangerous places before, and no such accident happening. But it was fortunately only the pack waggon and no one was hurt or anything broken.

At last we got out of the sandhills, and on to the open plain with the fine large Bay in view. The vessels were still there but just ready to leave. There were two tents erected in which the goods were stored. The number of wild birds was wonderful. The beach of the lagoon was quite red for miles with flamingoes and other parts great flocks of pelicans. There were thousands of duikers flying in long strings morning and evenings. The mirage was simply indescribable. The Bay swarmed with sharks and porpoises. There was not a rock or stone to be seen, nor a bush or blade of grass only a small patch of sampire. A truly wild and desolate place with not a human habitation to be seen. Only sandhills to be seen in the distance and towards the north miles inland, the blue mountain which Captain Alexander named Kehorn[27]. Ours were the first waggons that ever reached Walwich Bay[28] and I believe the first white females that ever put foot there were mother, Mrs. Morris, my sister[29] and myself. Oh! what a dreary prospect all presented. In a few days Jonker and his men returned and we took up our abode in the tents till the next move was decided on, and which was that Mrs. Morris was determined to return to the Cape with the cutter, the other vessel having left some days before. Mr. Morris pleading his wife’s health as the reason for going and promising to return when she was better. Of course the vessel would have to return with further supplies. He and his wife and two children accordingly left, and we could not help feeling truly lonely. Father[30] went a short distance inland to examine the waters as there was no drink water in the Bay, and to see which was the best place to build a house. He decided on a place about three miles from the Bay, where there was a fountain, he gave the place the name of Sandfontain[31], which it still bears.

Father also went to the mouth of the Swacop River[32] and found near there the remains of a wreck. There were five cannon embedded in the rocks. They were plainly to be seen at low-water. The natives told him the old natives had murdered some of the crew of the vessel and the others had made a raft and gone to sea on it. Some of the old people still remember the circumstances. Father and the men who still remained set to work cutting poles and reeds to make a house. In the meantime we remained in the Bay.

Sometimes the native near the Bay would bring us wood and narras, a fruit which grows on the sandhills and on which they principally live in fact all living things there, eat it. Jackal, horse, dogs, monkeys, wolves and ostriches, etc. The latter were in great numbers on the plain and used to come down to the Kusip for the narras. The natives used also to come down to the Bay to catch fish mostly stingray or stakes, which they eat with a Koedo[33] Horn at the end of a long stick. They would walk in at low water up to their knees and stick them with the horn. They did the same to small sharks and had poles put up on which to dry them.

A few days after the cutter left she returned with the Morris family. It seems they got contrary winds and the accommodation being so small and bad and all suffering from sea sickness Mrs. Morris preferred to return so they put back. I don’t think the sailors were sorry to get rid of such cargo and they to be on land again. Mr. Morris went at once to assist father to make a house but as his wife was expecting to be ill[34] her house of course had to be ready first, which kept us some weeks longer in the tents and damp and foggy bay. In such a country and such a situation gives one the opportunity of finding out people’s true characters and it is wonderful how utterly selfish human nature can be.

One day we saw a vessel coming into the Bay and soon after anchoring a party landed and came up to the tents. They were all Englishmen and were all armed. Of course we were rather nervous at such a sight. As father was away one of the two men (Regan) was there. However, they were very civil and the Captain told mother they were in search of something mineral I think and went about searching different spots and not finding what they wanted, went on board again and the vessel left. Father was very sorry he did not see them. (They were at the Swacop making a fortune.)
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At last our house was finished[35] and ready for us and did it not really look nice and comfortable although it was only made of long reeds and lined with blue calico. It had a porch before the door. It was built in a hollow surrounded by sandhills and at a little distance almost in a line was the Morris’s house and a store at the end and on the otherside a house for the men[36]. As there was no grass for the horses, father took the men and two waggons and Ben[37] and I accompanied him to Ornaines where they cut two loads of fine long grass. We were away three weeks, and on our return found Mrs. Morris had a little daughter[38]. My mother and Mr. Morris had to act as Dr. and nurse for the first time, none of the profession being in the country. Soon after another vessel came into the Bay searching for guano or an island said to be on the coast. Father could not give them any information about it. Of course it was “Ichebo Iland”[39] they were looking for and which became known soon after and hundreds of vessels crowded there, so that a Man of War had to be sent there to keep peace and order. We met Mr. Bam at Osip, he had just that day had a narrow escape, a rhinoceros having put his horn into the plank of his waggon. In a couple of months our vessel the “Susan”, a brig I think it was, which Mr. Lawton had purchased for our company arrived from the Cape with supplies and a blacksmith, whose name was Nagan and who was afterwards the Cape Copper Companies’ Blacksmith on Springbok for many years; also a carpenter.

Mr. Lawton came with the vessel having given up business in town. The Susan was sent with a shipment of cattle to St. Helena. Mr. Morris going with them to arrange about supplying Government with meat. The vessels came now every day from “Ichebo”, sometimes there were ten or twelve in the Bay at the same time. They came to get fresh meat[40] and had so much merchandise and provisions on board, that father bartered with them for oxen, etc., and had no need to get things from Cape Town or St. Helena. Many natives also came from the interior with cattle, sheep, skins and feathers. Old Jan Boois was one lot or tribe that came and brought a letter from his missionary, Mr. Knoetz, and got a lot of things on credit which they never paid for and what they did pay for with cattle (which were sent to the cattle post at Rooibank, they, Jan Boois lot, actually went and took the oxen they had given in payment for a wagon and spanned them into the same wagon. So much for them and their missionary letter of recommendation.

Mr. Morris returned from St. Helena to fetch his wife and family as he had to stay there to attend to the business and the vessel kept taking cattle over[41]. We had many visitors as our house was only three miles from the Bay, and many of the Captains came up, one or two had their wives with them, Mrs. Malcolm was one, a very nice woman who always lived on board, the ship being a large one and their own. My father sometimes took my sister[42] and me with him on board and on one accasion when I went with him, we saw a Mr. Latham[43] on board of the vessel, he had come from England with it, had been to “Ichebo” and did not care to return to England, and as father wanted a confidential man to leave at the place when he was absent and also a bookkeeper he engaged him. We also got timber enough to build a large house, but there was no time to have it built just now so we remained in the old one. We had also got a lot of English donkeys and we each had our own donkey to ride, so we amused ourselves by riding. We had to help mother with the housework as there were no female servants to be had. Mother tried to teach one of the native women but she was more trouble than our doing the work ourselves. About this time[44] Messs. Rath and Schipmann[45] (German Missionaries) came from Cape Town to join Mr. Hahn and party, so father had their goods brought up and stored and they stayed with us while messengers were sent with their letters to Mr. Hahn, and it was nine weeks before waggons came to fetch them. A short time after they left, Mr. Tindall with his wife and son, came from Amaral’s place where he was stationed as missionary. Mrs. Tindall was suffering from an attack of fever; they had come for supplies.

Father had also got another blacksmith, a young man from England, his name was Bassingthwaighte[46], and he took charge of the two young lions we had. It was most amusing to see him playing with them on the sandhills of an evening. They were very tame with him but one night they got out of their cage and next morning their spoors were taken, but father got on his horse and rode direct to the mussel-beds about five miles down the Bay where there were two large vessels trading whalebones and got there just in time to catch some Hottentots with the lions which they were going to sell. Soon after young Bassingthwaighte and others came there, having followed their track and father gave him his horse to take the lions home. He mounted and took the little lions before him but it was not long before the horse got scent of them, took fright and started off and B. could not check him, the lions were also frightened and clung to him like grim-death and as he said it must have beaten “John Gilpins” ride, for I remember the poor horse was covered with foam and B. pale and nearly breathless got off saying “Thank God I am here, it is my first and will be last ride with lions.”

Many of the Captains wanted to buy the lions but father would not part with them. On one occasion the mate of a large vessel (Lady Maud) made a bet to get them, and one afternoon while father was on board, he came on shore and took the horse from the man who was waiting with him for father to ride home, and to our surprise instead of father we saw a stranger and rather fierce looking man who was armed with pistols and daggers coming riding rather hard up to the house and jumping off hooked the bridle to the porch, came in and asked for Mrs. Dixon. Mother said “I am Mrs. Dixon”, what do you want? Poor Mrs. Tindall who was still weak from the fever and lying on the sofa was terrified. The man said he had come for the lions, father had sent him and he must have them. Mother asked him where his order was, he said in his pocket, then mother asked him how he was going to take them? He said, “On the horse”. Mother told him he could not have them, but he said he must, he then noticed me sitting by the window sewing and came over and sat down near me and began talking to me. Mother then quietly left the room and had the lion’s cage carried into the store and locked up. After a while he seemed to miss mother and remembered his errand. He went out and looked about and not seeing the lions, went into the kitchen where the man was frying some fritters, stuck his dagger into one and walked out. Mother was watching his movements and when he went and took the horse from the boy, mother walked up and took the bridle and told him he could not have the horse again. She then called Saul and told him to take the horse to the stable and rub him down. The man looked at her with surprise and said, “So ! then you will not let me have the lions ? No ! Nor the horse ? No ! How am I to get back to the Bay ?” I don’t know if mother left him standing there and came into the house, however, some time after we saw him walking away rather sheepishly.

Two nights after, the same man made another attempt to get the lions. Bassingthwaighte had a wooden sort of sleeping apartment. It had been on the deck of a vessel and just big enough for a man to sleep in. B. had put some hooks in to hang his gun on, which he always kept loaded, and always slept there as it was near the lions cage. Fortunately the lions were still in the store where mother had them removed to. B. was comfortably asleep, in his cabin as it was called, when he was suddenly wakened by his apartment being rolled over and over, he feared his gun might go off and shouted and made use of some choice language but to no purpose and being a little distance from the house no one heard him, but the lot of sailors who had come with the man to steal the lions and not finding them, they had some fun in playing this trick on B. and wringing the heads off nearly all the fowls and stealing a favourite dog with her pups and also taking the gong from the point in the square, which was not missed till it had to be rung for breakfast next morning.

One day I unintentionally gave mother such a fright. Mr. Lawton and some others had been out shooting and coming in just as we were going into dinner, put their guns down in the room and went out and forgot about them and as the children might get hold of them, mother told me to take Mr. Lawton’s to his room, and I, thinking to make sure of its not going off took the cap and in putting down the lock again it was too strong for me and went off in the room. This was my first shot.
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Fewer vessels frequented the Bay now and as things were not very satisfactory at St. Helena, Mr. Lawton insisted on father going over to see about matters, and a day before he was to leave, he and Mr. Tindall came from the Swacop where the cattle post was, and rode all night along the beach from there in the damp and fog. He took a severe cold, which ultimately ended in Asthma. The next day he went on board. I accompanied father to St. Helena, and Mr. and Mrs. Tindall and son with Mr. Lawton, came with us as far as Pelican Point. We pulling back halfway in to the Bay and they got into the boats and we proceeded on our voyage. They had a very narrow escape from being blown down to the mussel-beds. At last in despair they left the big boat there and got into the dingy and as the wind was strong the men walked on shore, and with a rope pulled the boat along. It was near midnight when they reached the place where the cart was waiting for them to take them up to the house. The next morning the men were sent for the big boat, but it was smashed to pieces by the surf. Another time Bassingthwaighte and another man went to spend the evening on board the vessel, and left about midnight to return home, but they lost their way in the dark. B. found his way home before day, but the other man (I forget his name) not making his appearance, his spoor was taken and he was traced back to the beach, and the people on board said, the watch on deck before day had heard a man shouting from the shore, then the voice seemed nearer and before they could look what it meant, they heard a groan close to the ship and all was silent. It is supposed the man had tried to swim to the ship and a shark must have caught him. Father had the beach searched but they only got a piece of his waistcoat. He had a wife and children in England.

We stayed three days in St. Helena[47] and there we again met Mr. Latham, who had left for England a short time before. He changed his mind and returned with us. We went on to Ascension and stayed there one day. There I met Mrs. Martin, wife of the Sailing Master of the Turtess who was very kind. We stayed so late there that evening that he had to give us his boat and crew to take father and me on board, as all strange boats had to be off the Island at sunset. We left before it was light next morning.

We encountered some rough weather, it was almost a storm, for three days, but reached home at last. Father’s cold became much worse. Indeed from that time his health quite failed and everything seemed to go back. The business was given up at St. Helena[48] - father had decided on that when he was there. Mother took father to the Swakop for change of air and a few days a vessel came into the Bay with a doctor on board. We asked him to go and see father which he kindly consented to do. The horses had gone with them, so there was only an ox for him to ride. He started with a Hottentot for a guide, but when they had gone some distance, the fellow made the doctor understand he would not go any further unless he gave him his coat. After a lot of talk the Dr. seeing the scamp would not go, gave it to him, then he wanted his handkerchief, a little further on he would have his hat, and as the water they had taken with them was all finished and the Dr. very thirsty, he complied with all the demands. Fortunately Hans Larsen[49] and Frank Bassingthwaighte who had gone with father met them just as the poor Dr. was getting quite knocked up – he told them how he was without coat, hat, etc. – they took the Hottentot and gave him a good flogging.

Father’s health not improving and my sister[50] also being sick they both went to Cape Town to get medical attandance, and were away nine months[51]. Mr. Lawton, mother and we children remaining behind.

Mr. Morris took a large troop of cattle overland to Cape Town[52] as there was no market for them here. Latham also went with him as the working establishment had been broken up as well – only a carpenter and another man remaining to finish building the large wooden house. My brother, Jospeh, was born during father’s absence[53].

There was also a store built in the Bay by a Capt. Gragburn,[54] so we had neighbours with whom we were on friendly terms. The German Missionary, Mr. Schipmann[55], had also come to live at Rooibank and a most devoted self denying man he was – a model missionary going amongst those wretched Hottentots as they trekked about and living for days on the narras and learning their language. He might have effected a little good in the end had he lived, but in about two years he died of fever at Rheboth where he had gone to see Mr. Kleinschmidt – his last words were “Peace, perfect Peace”.
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Father, Rebecca, Morris, his sister Mrs. Stewardson[56], her husband and two children returned from Cape Town. Father was no better and Rebecca still ailing. Mr. Lawton and the men went back with the vessel and a short while after Morris and we again started overland so as to collect some of the outstanding debts. When we came to Jonker’s place Morris took the Fish River road and we Amarals.

Whilst outspanned one day a large troop of elephants was seen coming towards the water – some of the men went with their guns, but only frightened them away. When we got within a days journey from Elephantsfontein[57], father, being much better, rode on ahead on horseback and on reaching the Mission Station saw no one so he went to Amaral’s house and asked if Mr. Tindall was absent. He was told they were all laid up with fever. He then went back and knocked at the door and a very weak voice said “come in”. He saw they were all helpless, not able to help each other. Seven servants, one after the other, who had come to attend to them were attacked by the fever and had to go home. Indeed more or less all the people on the place were suffering. A hundred and twenty died there that season. We, of course, on arrival there attended to the mission family and one after the other we were all prostrate except Tom – he escaped. We had a most trying time and the day my little brother died[58] was the first that Mrs. Tindall was able to be up, thus there was one (tho’ still very weak) able to attend to the sad duty of putting his remains in the trunk which had to be his coffin, as there was no one able to make one. Fortunately there were just four young women well enough to carry it to the grave and a few men to prepare that. Some of the poor people had to be buried just outside their huts as there were no people to bury them. One poor man crawled on his hands and knees to drink water at the dam in the night and was found there dead the next morning. Our wagon driver also died. Not having proper medicine and provision, it is surprising most of us were not carried off, but God whom we found a “Help in Need” saw fit to spare us. – As soon as we were able to move, we decided change of air would be the best for all of us, and as the season was now over, it would not do to attempt the Cape journey so we started for Walwich Bay again and thank God! all got stronger and improved as we got on.

The veldt was very dry, and after leaving Jonkers, we were obliged to leave the old road for want of water – for some distance we kept near the Swakop River, then not much known and much frequented by lions. One night we were travelling down the bed of the river, it was moonlight and just after we had spanned out and were having supper, there was a rush and shouting and firing of guns and such a confusion ! The cause of all this was, that as the man went to turn the oxen, he came upon a rhinoceros lying under a tree not many yards from the wagons and as the man came near he jumped up and rushed after him – fortunately one of the bullets fired hit him on the right spot and he dropped down dead about fifty paces from the wagons. Of course there was a dispute who had killed him.

It was proved to be Mr. Tindall’s wagon driver as the ball showed when cut out, his gun being a little different from the others. There was any amount of game.

Another day they shot seven buffaloes and one rhinoceros. We caught the calf of one of the buffaloes as it came near the wagons looking for its mother. We surrounded it and one of the men caught it by the foot. Another day as we were trekking along the banks of the river a wounded buffalo came and rushed into the span of oxen pulling our wagon, the leader got frightened and left the tow. The oxen must have thought it was another ox for they did not mind it at all and after walking sometime between the oxen in the yoke the buffalo must have found out his mistake and gently turned out of his own account. The men were afraid of causing an accident if they interfered with him while he was in the span, but, as soon as he was a little way from the wagons the driver shot him. The poor thing dropped down dead a few yards from the wagons. We again met a large troop in a narrow pass and the wagons had to stop to let them go by. At last we reached Sandfonteinwhere Stewardson had been left in charge – the old houses now were nearly covered entirely with sand, the sandhills having shifted with the constant wind which blows every afternoon.

In about two weeks father decided to return to Jonkers to collect some debts, so we accompanied Tindalls on their return. We now took the Swakop road all the way to Barmen, the Rhenish Mission Station. Mother and the children were left on Sandfontein, only Richard[59] and I going with father. One morning we came to a water in the bed of the river and found the remains of a buffalo which the lions had killed the night before. As it was Saturday father and Mr. Tindall said they would stand over Sunday there. We accordingly drew up under some fine trees a little distance above the water. Two of the men were sent that evening to sleep near the water, so as to turn the cattle should they stray down the river. During the night the lions came to get their buffalo and not getting it, I suppose, were not in the best of tempers and got scent of the two men and seemed inclined to attack them, but they managed to escape by running to the wagons where there was such a noise made, shouting and firing off of guns, that the lions were kept off, but the next night they came so close to our wagon, that was a little distance from the fires, and the other wagons, that one came and smelt at the meat that was hanging on the tree and came to the basket hanging at the side of the wagon. From there they walked along the yokes smelling them too and finished by jumping over the disselboom of Mr. Tindall’s wagon. We thought it time to leave such dangerous quarters next morning. We next came to Otjimbegwe[60], no one was living there then. It was afterwards made a Mission Station and then the principal station of the mining company many years after and now is the central village of the country. Here, as we were crossing the river the wagons stuck fast in the sand and while they were trying to get them out, the boy let father’s horse stray and the lions killed him.

We spent a few days with Mr. Rath at Barmen, Mr. Hahn and family had gone to the Bay, we had met them on the road. At Jonker’s place the Tindalls went to their station and we remainded. When father saw he could not succeed in getting any of his debts, he tried to get back to the Bay, but could get no men, there was always some excuse or the other. We were kept here for months. At last Mr. Haddy returned from Cape Town to his station – he had been absent for eighteen months. A short time after, Mr. Morris and his nephew came from the Bay, they went overland with the cattle. Mr. Morris had been left in Cape Town. We at last started for Sandfontein accompanied by Jonker and a Mr. Fielding for a couple of days and a young man, Mr. Haddy had brought to trade for him, and another young man Mr. Sherman, who had made his way from the Bay with Bassingthwaighte and was returning there now. We had rather a quiet journey and reached home[61] one morning, delighted to find mother and the children quite well. That same night my brother Robert[62] was born. Soon after we moved to the Swakop River[63] to live where we could make a garden.
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As we had no work, people all having left, we had to put our shoulders to the wheel ourselves and Becky and I determined as far as possible to act the part of sons as well as daughters, as father was still sick and our brothers still only little boys. Becky and I[64] had to take the lead and do whatsoever our hands found to do. Of course the little boys did all they could to help us. Mother had quite enough to do with domestic matters – father directed us. We first chose a place to settle down in which was named by the Hottentots “Canecundas”[65]. We cut some poles and reeds and made a sort of room or shed to live in till we could erect something better. Then we dug a piece of ground over and made a garden. We had one man to herd the cattle and donkeys - the children took part in herding the cattle. How pleased we were when we saw our garden so productive ! It quite encouraged us ! We decided to build a nice house on a rock from which we would have a nice view of the river and place for a large kraal behind the mountain surrounding it in the shape of a V, so that by putting railings from the point of the opposite rock to the house thus all would be enclosed and it was well we did as it afterwards proved. We set resolutely to work and chopped poles and long reeds which took Becky and me many weeks before we had enough – Morris arrived with his family from Cape Town. When we again got a supply of provision. Morris also came to live at “Canecundas” and put up a reed house for them. He had brought his nephew and a wagon driver named Jonathan from Cape Town and a leader named Hendrick. About this time the Company of Morris and Dixon[66] was dissolved under very disadvantageous circumstances for us, but being in such an out of the way country and father in such a weak state we were obliged to put up with matters and make the best of things. We were still working very hard at our house when one day the river came down suddenly and washed our garden away which was just getting ripe[67] – the water ran for three weeks bringing down great trees and cutting away the banks. The boy Hendrick also became very ill. Lawson[68], Sherman and Bassingthwaighte about this time came to live near us. They were now living together on their own account and had a lot of cattle and sheep. We had most of the framework of the house done and father got Bassingthwaighte to come and help put on the roof and we soon had the pleasure of moving into our new house. It had three rooms and a kitchen and a verandah. The doors and windows were taken from the old house at Sandfontein. Were not Becky and I proud of it ? I don’t think two girls ever worked harder than we did and then the dangers we ran ! For the lions had come to the neighbourhood and sometimes paid the place a visit. Some of the men said they found the track of a lion and where he had been lying down under a tree, not far from where we had been cutting some poles that day, and that we both had been in the wood at the same time, but we did not see him. At last, one night, the lion killed an ox and father, Morris and the other neighbours went to hunt him. Father of course could do nothing but go with the wagon “Honedas” the place where the lions had gone to. While they were away poor Hendrick died and there were only the cattle herd and another Hottentot to carry him to the grass, Mrs. Morris, Becky and I following. The third day the party returned without having killed any lions.

We now set to work to make a large garden and when that was done got a small plough up that was at Sandfontein[69] and with the donkeys ploughed in some corn. Just before this Morris and family had left for the Colony.

The lions now became most troublesome and one, in particular, most cunning – seldom going far away. The men set traps for him whenever he killed any thing and put a hair trigger gun in the footpath but it was set with only a thin piece of twine and covered with bushes he seemed to know it and went round it. He came every night about nine or ten o’clock and just before day but the cattle and things being in our good and natural kraal he could only frighten (them). One evening, as father and Jonathan were gone to the Bay, I went before sunset to set the gun in the footpath and went from there with Ben[70] and James[71] with the donkey cart up the river for wood – on our return coming down the bed of the river just as we got opposite the gun, the bullet whistling past the wheel. We could not at first make out the reason, but on examining the place we found our little dog, Blucher, had taken that way home and his tail, which he generally carried curled up, had touched the string and fired off the gun. It gave mother a great fright and she would not let me set the gun any more. We had to take the tracks of the lion every morning before the cattle went out of the kraal; if the lion went up the river they were sent down and vice versa.

Hans Larsen was one day riding his ox down the river when the lion sprang out from under a tree and he had a very narrow escape. The lion now often killed things in the veldt. Hans and Sherman moved away with their cattle – Jonathan also left. Sometimes we had some goats that would not stay in their little kraal which was inside the big one, they would climb up to a place we called the cave in the side of the kraal and lie on the edge of the top of the cave. As we only had the old cattle herd left, Becky and I[72] took to shooting to frighten the lion and one night, going round on top of the hill forming the one wall of the kraal, he caught one of the goats – next night I aimed the blunderbuss, which I had loaded with slugs and pebbles, to where the goats were and when I heard the lion catch one I fired as well as I could at him and he dropped the goat which rolled down into the kraal and he got away. Next morning we went to look at the place and found I had wounded him, as there was blood on his spoors. The cattle got quite used to his coming near the kraal and we were very much amused of a moonlight night watching them when they got his scent or heard him. They would all rush into the middle of the kraal and stand in a circle with their horns out – it looked pretty. One night Becky was loading the gun, she stood at the table where mother sat sewing, she had forgotten to put the cap on and just as she was pulling the wadding in, she remembered the cap and just stuck the wadding in the muzzle and put on the cap. The hammer was a little stiff and in putting it down the gun went off at mother’s ears, of course giving her a start – Becky saw the wadding sticking in the thatch and running, jumped on the table, made a spring and pulled down the burning stuff and threw it on the table. It was done in less time than it takes to tell it. Another night Bassingthwaighte and his boy were asleep in his little reed house, some distance from our place, the lion drove his good dogs up to the door. B. woke with the noise and they kept up firing till morning but the lion coolly sat on his hind legs like a dog before the house till just before daylight when he went away. B. came to us next day and asked father to let him sleep at our house in future as he would not venture another night alone at his house. On one occasion the lion was in front of our house and mother used to think that by suddenly opening the door the light would frighten him – then she would walk out on the stoep under the verandah, but this night as she opened the door and was going to walk out she stopped, shuddering and could not go on, so came in again. Fortunately she did, for next morning the spoors of the lion were just under the rock near the railings of the kraal. Another night there was great barking of the dogs on the stoep. As neither the blunerbuss nor the gun was loaded I called the man with his gun, but as he was not quick enough I seized his gun which was at the head of his bed – he was rather stingy with the powder and his gun was not often fired off. When I fired out of the front door, it kicked so that it knocked me back and left a large black mark on my arm. I did not interfere with his gun again. As to the lion he became so daring he would not go out of sight of the house even during the day but would lie in the reeds a little way off. In one afternoon he killed four of our calves and father was afraid he might kill some of us or he might go and lie in the mealies in the garden instead of the reeds, so he was determined to move away to Rooibank where the Mission Station was. Mr. Bam was there now in the place of the late Mr. Schepmann. We would not move mother and the children until there was a house for them – so father, Bassingthwaighte,[73] Ben, James and I[74] went to get a little place ready, leaving mother, Becky, Richard, Tom and Baby Robert[75] at home. - The lion had left us – he occasionally did for a few days at a time. There was one Hottentot left to mind the cattle and we left one afternoon, trekked all night, and the second reached “Rooibank”. About ten days after I was in the tent, which we had put up, I heard one Hottentot boy say to another “Did you hear the news ? Richard is dead.”[76] I went out and asked what they meant and heard, that the man we had left with mother, had just come. Father and Frank B.[77] had also seen him pass to the huts and went to question him. He told us the baby was dead and the lion had come back. He was afraid and had run away. We, of course, started at once leaving the children, Ben and James with Mr. Bam. Mr. Bam kindly lent us his driver and we trekked all night and reached the Swakop in the afternoon next day. We did not once span out. When we reached the gorge leading down to the river we fired a couple of shots to let them know we were coming, but heard no answering shot as was usual. This made us more uneasy. At last we reached the house and there was no one to be seen. We examined the tracks about the place and found, comparatively, as many lion spoors as cattle spoors and I rushed into the house and found it all in order – a large stump burning in the kitchen fireplace. I went to baby’s drawer where his clothes were kept and found it empty. I knew then it was true that he was gone.
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The men in the meantime were searching for the family – firing off guns, etc. I looked about for the little grave but could not find it. Poor father was nearly distracted. I ran up to the top of the hill behind the house and at last I saw a dust coming round the point of the rocks some distance down the river, and called to father that they were coming. The old driver was also on their tracks going down the river. At last they came within sight. There were the cattle and with Becky with a gun on her shoulder, mother with her sewing and the two children with their lesson books. They had heard the guns and were coming home. They had fired a shot in answer to ours but we had not heard it. Mother’s account was, that directly after we left she had noticed a swelling under baby’s ear and next day it was under the other ear. He was very ill and would not leave her arms but kept her walking about the room night and day till she was ready to drop. On the third day, at sunset the little pet died. He was laid out on the sofa and as all were tired out they went to bed. Mother lying on some chairs near the sofa. The lion had not returned since we left, but just as they were going to sleep the cattle made a rush, a sure sign the lion was near. There happened to be a strange young ox in the kraal, he jumped through a broken place in the rails, and of course all the others followed and madly rushed off. Becky in her haste to load the gun got the ram rod fast in it and had to fire it through the window into the sand. The gun kicked so that it nearly knocked her down. There was no rest for them that night. The lion of course got his supper. The wolves and jackals were making a noise near the house the whole night. I suppose they had got scent of the cattle carcass. Next morning the man went to collect the scattered cattle and mother and Becky had to consider about the coffin and grave. My mother’s trunk became the former and the corner in the side of the kraal was thought the safest spot for the latter, though it was a sort of rocky ground like that the house was built on, and it was dreadful hard work to make a grave in it. Mother tried to help poor Becky but could not – so she sat and encouraged her and well she did it. She worked from early in the morning and it was only deep enough by the afternoon, indeed one corner of the trunk was still to be seen when we came. Just as the grave was finished, the man came with the cattle and he helped mother, Becky and Richard to carry the trunk coffin to the grave. Tom following.[78] Mother tried to read a little burial service, but broke down so they concluded the ceremony as best they could. On their return to the house the Hottentot said he would not stay any longer, he would leave at once and, as there was no persuading him to remain another night, mother asked him to take a letter to father but he refused saying, if he did, he was afraid of getting punished for leaving them quite alone. Next day Becky and Tom went with the cattle as Richard was laid up with a bad foot, a poisonous thorn had pricked him. On the third day Richard’s foot was better and mother said she was so anxious about Becky and Tom, and so miserable alone at the house that she preferred going with the children to mind the cattle. Thus they had all gone every day since with the work and books – Becky with the gun of course, taking care first to see which way the lions had gone – up or down. The corn was looking beautiful – there was more than one hundred stalks from one grain and the ears so heavy that they hung down. I have never seen such a cornfield again – the reason was that it was sown on soil over which the river had overflowed and left rich deposit. A troop of buffaloes walked through it one day but did not eat a single ear. I suppose they did not know what it was.

We only stayed two days after we heard mother’s account as none of us cared to remain where we were constantly reminded of our lost little pet, who was just 15 months old[79] when he left us, besides we were rather tired of the lion for a neighbour. He had killed in nine months, one horse, a donkey, four calves, and thirty-one of our and our neighbours cattle, besides I don’t know how many sheep and goats. We reached “Rooibank” safely and as we could not get the lazy Hottentots to work, Becky and I had again to set our minds to make the house. Frank B. helping us to put it up – but we did not take the trouble with it we did with the other. We only made two rooms and nothing pretty about them. They were useful and tolerably comfortable. For one thing the materials were much more difficult to get and another I think we were a little disheartened. We had nice kind neighbours in Mr. and Mrs. Bam and we liked their baby. The Stewardsons[80] were also living here. We again made a garden and sowed a little corn. Mr. Bam also tried some but it did not grow half as good as it did in the Swakop and then we had the trouble of fencing it in. Becky and I chopping down the trees and Ben and James making the donkeys pull them to make the fence.

We went to see how the corn in the Swakop was, but it was not yet ripe. We stayed one night at the old house, and not long after we had retired to rest there was our old torment again. The oxen made a rush and just as they ran past the end of the stoep the lion caught one. As we thought Ben[81] now big enough to fire a gun, I held the door open while he fired out and shut it quickly as we heard our enemy close at hand - one of the bullets must have hit him for he left. The ox he had killed and we got it next morning lying a few yards below the stoep with the mark of the lion’s claws in his neck and the spoors of an immense spring off the ox – I suppose when he got the shot. We left that afternoon. In about three weeks father again started to reap the corn as he had succeeded in getting a couple of men to go with him, Becky and the two boys[82]. The lion was fortunately not there. Not having any sickles they were obliged to pull up the corn and beat it out on the buikplank of the wagon. It well repaid our trouble as we got more than fourteen muids from less seed than a half bucket. It kept us in bread till we again reached the Colony, of course using it sparingly. The corn at “Rooibank” was very little – they tried to tramp it out with the donkeys. I forgot father and mother made another visit to the Swakop, I think to bring the remainder of the corn and the lion actually followed their wagon spoor or their scent. They had gone round by Sandfontein and then home to Rooibank – the lion went round the house at Sandfontein, then up along the River Kosep[83] and came on to Rooibank and several days after and killed a cow belonging to a Hottentot or Mr. Bam I forget which.
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About this time we left on our journey to the Colony. A few days after a ship came into the Bay with Mr. Galton and Anderson[84]. The lion still prowled about Rooibank and killed Mrs. Stewardson’s little dog, Fan, at the end of the stoep. The next day the white people and natives went to hunt him and at last managed to kill our grand enemy. They told us he was a magnificent brute – so he ought to have been considering the loss and annoyance he caused us.

We had chosen the Kusip[85] or sand road. We, none of us, knew it and found it hard work getting the wagons through the heavy sand. We only had a couple of Hottentots with us. Ben had to drive one wagon and James led it. It was slow work but we fortunately met a Mr. Silverboor, a trader, and a bastard who were going to Rooibank, and who on their return gave us some assistance with their people as long as we were in company but it was not for long, only a few days. We never suffered so much in travelling as we did on that road. It certainly is the worst in the country. One evening mother and I were walking; the wagons stuck fast in the sand – Silverboor and party were doing their best to get them out. Mother and I sat down at the side of the road on a sandhill waiting and looking on. At last they got out and we went on and kept a little distance in front till we came to a steep hill, where the wagons again, for quite a long time, stuck. It was a nice clear starlight evening but cold – so I went to the wagon to get mother’s shawl. It was dark in the wagon and the children fast asleep. I felt if they were covered up and missed one of them and found it was Richard. I asked about him but no one could tell me about him. Of course I went back to the other wagon still sticking near the bottom of the hill, he was not there either, but some of the people said they had heard a child’s voice shouting sometimes, but thought they must be mistaken. Just as we got the lantern to go and search for him, the poor child came up and throwing his arms round me, clung to me trembling in every limb, but could not speak for some moments. Then mother came to see what was detaining me and heard the reason. I was so glad the child had come before she learnt of his absence, for my few minutes of anxiety was intense, what would hers have been ? Richard said that when the wagon stuck he got out and sat on the sand as he wanted to see how the young oxen would trek and the wagon sticking so long, he fell asleep. When he woke the wagons were gone – but he must have been still half asleep for he set off running in a wrong direction till he suddenly stopped at the edge of a steep place and then seemed to awake and understand his stiuation. He turned round and ran back and fortunately got on the wagon road but did not know which direction to take – but he felt about till he got a piece of fresh dung, and then he knew he was in the right road and to decide which way to go he looked at the stars and was able to judge the direction. After running some distance he heard the cracking of the whips at the wagons where they stuck and were providentially detained so long. He then began shouting in the hope of making us hear. This was a narrow escape as we were close to the river and lions were in the neighbourhood.

A few days after we were very short of water, not being able to reach any on account of the heavy sands and the oxen knocked up. Silverboor who had gone on and we were obliged to leave one wagon behind and take the oxen on to the nearest water and from there sent them back to fetch it. Becky offered to stay with the wagon till the oxen could be sent back.. A little while after we left, a troop of baboons came near and began screaming and going on so that she got frightened and buttoned the sail close and kept in the wagon. She was greatly pleased when they came with the oxen. At the next place we were obliged to leave the one wagon both for want of people and on account of the oxen. We had often heard of the “Devil’s Punch Bowl” as it was called and now we came to it. It was the only place to get water and we were obliged to go down. I don’t know that I can describe it right. It was a place where the Kusip River[86] comes down between steep high rocks on which you look down from where the wagon stood on a small flat sand surrounded by sand hills. When you stand at the edge and look down you see the water at the bottom like a small pool several hundred yards below. People used to get the water up in a skin bag which is made by having a goat killed and the skin taken off whole as a bag, the neck and feet being sewn up to make it watertight. When Becky and I looked down from the top we laughed and said people had made more of it than it was. It was only a steep sandhill we had to go down – so we started on a run – the man taking the oxen and the bag for the water. When we got about one third of the way down the sand suddenly ended from there the descent was over steep rocks, the rough footpath winding in and out down to the water which we reached at last and having found that the road was much farther and more difficult than it looked from the top. There were lots of bones lying about bleached white by the sun and we learnt on enquiring that they were the bones of oxen brought down to drink and which could not get out again as they could or would not jump up from the steep smooth rocks in one place of the footpath – they had to be left to their fate. There was only a small patch of reeds for them in that hole, not enough for poor knocked up beasts to live on.

We filled the bag and packed it on my ride ox as it was the tamest, but when we got to the steep spot where the animals had to make the jump, with all our driving and cracking of whips, we could not succeed in getting five of the oxen out and were obliged to leave them. When we reached the sand, as was usual, the water bag was tied to the ox’s tail, the hill was too steep for it to be kept on the animal’s back and with the plunges it would make to get up the sand it being heavy and loose, the bag would slip off. We also found it hard work to climb out. It was early morning when we went down and three o’clock in the afternoon when we reached the wagon at the top. Of course we had to leave at once as the next water was very far from there, and it would not do to have to go down there for water again. Becky and I did not laugh at the place or people’s stories about it any more, but thought they had given it a very good name.

After a few hours trekking we came into quite a different sort of country leaving the sand behind, of which we were very glad, and of course getting on proportionately better. Two days brought us to a rather nice place, a large flat surrounded by mountains. Near the banks of a periodical river we outspanned and stayed there to rest ourselves and the oxen, there being good grazing. Then after some days, father, Becky, Ben and I took the advantage of going with Frank Bassingthwaighte’s wagon which had come the day before from Rheboth, where he had settled some time before and was now going to Rooibank to fetch supplies for the Missionary and himself. We went to fetch the wagon which had been left in the sandhills. We left mother and the children at the ox wagon and the cattle in the care of the only faithful Hottentot, we had found, the one who stayed with us in the Swacop and who came with us when we left Rooibank. His name was Kleinsmit. I wonder why he was so different from the majority of the Hottentots. I don’t know what we should have done without him. He was one of the Bay Topnaars, as they are called, and was a very quiet determined man. Very careful of his powder since he had learned to shoot with a musket he had got from father. He deserves to be remembered by us being the only faithful Hottentot servant we found in the country.

When we reached the Devil’s Punch Bowl, an old man who was with Frank said he would get the oxen out which had been left there as he knew another place where they could climb. Accordingly he went down and brought three, the other two having died. We next reached the place where the wagon had been left and Frank went off to Rooibank, first helping us to inspan. We travelled all night and just after sunrise we spanned out in the sandhill near the flat above the Devil’s Punch Bowl and while we were preparing to have some breakfast, the oxen being thirsty strayed off, and Becky went to turn them but could not get ahead of them for sometime, as they were making off in search of water. We wondered what kept her and, of course, went to see but she had just managed to turn them, but not before they had got a couple of miles away. We then decided to leave the wagon there with father, as he was not able to go with us, and take the oxen down to the water in the Devil’s Punch Bowl. It was about twelve o’clock when we got to the top and as it was a broiling hot day we could not stand the heat of the sand going down as it got into our shoes. We rolled handkerchiefs over our shoes and so managed to reach the rocky part of the path. When we had given the oxen water, we thought we would try to find the place where the man had brought the three oxen out and walked a long distance up the bed of the river as there were literally no banks only steep rocks on each side; but we could find no place possible to go out and no sign of a path, so we turned back as it was getting late; it was nearly sun-set when we reached the water and attempted to go up. We had some work and delay when we came to the place where the oxen had to jump up, but after a long time with Ben cracking his whip and shouting we succeeded in getting all up. Only the two sheep we had for slaughter got away but that we did not care about and did not even try to turn them. It was about midnight when we reached the top, a clear starlit night. We stopped to pack the water bag on the ox and after doing so sat down for a few minutes and all three fell asleep, but in a few moments were awake again by a noise which we thought were wild dogs. The cattle being tired had not strayed and some were laying down, we were rather frightened at the thought of the dogs and, of course, lost no time in getting on. When we reached the sandhills we found out what the noise was; it was poor old father shouting; he thought we could not find the wagon and as he could not make any more fire, having pulled all the long grass he could find since sunset to make a fire, to show us where to come to, there being no bushes or wood to be had. He had been shouting till he was quite hoarse, tired and nearly wild with anxiety, at our long absence. We, as well as the oxen, were too tired to proceed till next morning.

We trekked all that day and most of the night without stopping, and the next day reached the wagon and found mother and the rest all well.
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Some of Jan Bois people had been there a couple of days before and had left word they would come again when we returned, which they did, and father got a few men to assist us to get off to Jan Bois’s place; which we reached in two days. Now commenced new trouble. First the cattle got scattered and mixed with the natives’ cattle and they would not give any assistance to collect them, as they wanted to detain us with the object of getting all they could from us. So poor Kleinsmidt had as much as he could do to get them together. Some at one verft and some at another and at last with some trouble we got away with one man, all we could get, and who agreed to go as far as Rheboth with us. While out-spanned in the afternoon to give the oxen water, the man, all at once hurried us to inspan again, we found out he suspected another lot of Hottentots were coming to hinder us from proceeding. At another outspan place just as we were starting several did come and insisted on our going to their verfts, which we refused to do : they took the two whips into their own hands and so compelled us. It was just sunset when we started and I very reluctantly got into the wagon at the last moment, trying to smother my vexation, and I must acknowledge the first relief I felt was at the sight of a fire in the distance, although I found it to be the fire of our “plagues” there was something cheering to me in it. Next morning a lot of the men came and insisted on trading and asking a most exorbitant amount of powder for an ox, and on father refusing (he was sitting on the footboard of the wagon) the villian struck him with his hand, but fortunately did not hurt him much, but being rather weak he was startled and Becky and I standing near caught him before he fell. The whole lot of Hottentots seemed surprised and frightened at what had happened as they hurried off and not one came near us again that day, which was one of intense anxiety; they had taken one of the wheels of the wagon off to prevent our leaving that evening.

Becky and I sat long over the fire after all the others had gone to bed talking of our sad plight and making all sorts of plans to try and get out of the situation. At last Becky got into the wagon to go to bed. I still sat brooding over the embers, in no very cheerful mood, when all at once there was a sweet voice singing an old hymn tune in one of the huts not far off. I can’t express the soothing effect it had on me, besides the surprise of hearing it at such a place and hour, as it was late. As soon as it was over I went contentedly to bed and slept well. Next morning a few women came to the wagon and I noticed one looked cleaner and quieter than the others and I at once suspected she was the singer last night. I got into conversation with her and found out she was there only on a visit. She came from Amarals; thus, the hymn tune was explained. We would have no dealings with the people and managed to get away in a couple of days, much better than any of us expected. After some days travelling we reached Rheboth, and as we would have to make a long stay here, father gave the cattle over to Swartboy (the Chief) to take charge of. Our old servant Kleinsmidt left us to return to the Bay. I heard sometime after that he did not live long after he left us, indeed, I don’t think he reached the Bay.

After a few weeks father decided to go on to Amarals. Becky stayed on a visit at Mrs. Volmers, the Missionary’s wife. The cattle were also left. We found the Tindalls well, they had been to Cape Town, and left their son at college. We did not stay more than ten days. On our return journey to Reboth[87], a lot of the Rooifolk[88] came and insisted on our going to their verft, but father refused, but they sent for the oxen and spanned in, and just as they were going off with the wagon, mother told me to jump up and get some bedding, etc. I also took the chopper, the kettle and some tea, and just as they were starting I jumped down again. So we set to work to chop some bushes to make a scherm for the night. Next morning we heard the ruffians were holding a raad about detaining us. Our driver went and persuaded them to let us have the wagons so they let him take it, and we made as much haste to get off as soon as possible and soon were out of their reach. When we reached Rheboth,[89] we heard that the man in charge of our cattle had let them scatter and killed several. When father spoke to the Chief he pretended not to know anything about it and said it was the man’s fault and went to no trouble about them. After a lot of trouble they were at last got together; but the season for the overland journey[90] was past, so we had to stay here for nine months. We accordingly had a large square mat house made a little way out of the village, not far from the Mission and F. Bassingthwaighte’s house. Becky became engaged to him,[91] but father would not consent to their marriage till we had returned to the Colony,[92] so there was one of the family at least who did not regret our stay here.

A few months after our being there Mr. Galton and Hans Lawson[93] came there[94] for a couple of days. They were about to start for their trip into Ovamboland. At last the rainy season was at hand and we prepared for another start, but found the usual difficulty of getting people, as none liked to come to the Colony[95]. We started short of people rather than stay any longer, but could not get beyond a few hours of Rheboth,[96] as some or rather the Damaras[97] ran away.

At last one evening Frank B. and Mr. Fielding (who were now trading for themselves as Mr. Haddy had long left the country), came over to our camp, but they had left his people some days journey off on the Cape Town road, and he promised if we managed to get to his party, to assist us to proceed, but he could not now stop as his people were alone with his troop of cattle, so he would have to return at once, but there was a gentleman who had accompanied him from the Colony[98] for the purpose of seeing the country, “a Mr. Miller” who did not wish to return with him, so he asked father to let him join our party and most fortunate for us, he did, although he was a rather eccentric character, but a kind-hearted man. When we got a few days journey from Rheboth,[99] in the neighbourhood of Bois people, we were outspanned for a few days and Ben and Mr. Miller were a little distance off at the water with the cattle, and Becky had taken the sheep to graze on the opposite hill, when a party of the ruffianly Jan Bois’ lot came to the wagon and were most insolent. They took the things off the wagon and were helping themselves to whatever they liked. Mother had sent James to tell Becky to leave the sheep and hurry to the wagon, but she had seen them and was coming on so she left James with the flock, and came. We could do nothing but look helplessly on. I heard mother who was a little distance from me say “it must go too”. I asked, “What mother ?” “Look, your Aunties little hood!” I turned and saw this keepsake of my mother’s only sister in the brute’s hand, and walking up to him said fiercely, “Give me that!” “What?” he said looking at me fiercely and I repeated “Give me that” and I took it out of his hands and said “There mother” throwing it to her. Another fellow came and took hold of my arm, he had a sjambok in his hand, I said nothing, I just stood looking at him when another came up and said, “leave her alone” he hesitated but the other repeated “you had better leave her, her eyes are no good”, so he let me go. Just then Mr. Miller and Ben returned and stood looking at the scene with surprise. M. used a few choice words, but they could not understand him, and he could not speak a word of Dutch. After taking what they liked they got on their oxen and rode off saying they would come the next day again, but we hurried and spanned in and started back on the road we had come, so as to send to Rheboth[100] and try again for people and go by the Fish River road as we saw these people would not let us pass. When we stopped for the night, the oxen being hungry would not rest, but would wonder off to graze, and as Mr. Miller and Ben were quite tired driving them on during the day, Becky and I took it in turns to watch them. I took the first watch and although I kept constantly walking round them, I could scarcely keep them from straying off, and about midnight, I was tired out and went to call Becky to take her turn, telling her if she did not keep walking quick enough round them, they would get away, but I suppose she was not thoroughly awake when I told her and did not walk quickly enough. I was hardly in bed when I heard them scatter and Becky trying in vain to turn them, so I woke Mr. Miller and we went after them, but they had got into the trees and bushes along the river, and it was most difficult to get them together again. As last we managed to collect and turn them, and just then I heard Becky at a little distance in the bushes say “Oh!” in a faint voice. Mr. Miller and I went in that direction and found poor Becky just fainting on the ground. Of course it was from over-exertion. We each took her under the arms and brought her to the wagon, where we found mother looking out for us, and father said we were to leave the cattle and let them go, only as soon as it was light we must try and collect them, before the natives got them.

Accordingly at dawn we were out and got most of them, but a party of native must have been on the watch and had taken some, they must have been the first lot that got out and went with them the direction we had come. At the next outspan place we met F. Bassingthwaighte who had heard of our detention. He accompanied us a few days on our road to the Fish River and then returned to Rheboth.[101]
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