A Rip Van Winkle of the Kalahari | Page 2

was) was but the fragment of a monster that must have
been every whit as big as the one I describe. The cataclysm is also a
possibility; for although rain falls but seldom in the desert, there are
occasional thunderstorms of extraordinary violence, and I have seen
wide stretches of the Kalahari near the dry bed of the extinct Molopo
River (long since choked, and part of the desert) converted into a broad
deep lake, after a cloudburst lasting but an hour or so, which drowned
hundreds of head of cattle.
The incident in "Dick Sydney," of the fracas in the bar where the
Germans were toasting to "The Day," was not written after war was
declared, but one night in Luderitzbucht full three years ago, after
hearing that toast drunk publicly in the manner described, and after
witnessing a very similar ending to it! And that particular story was
refused by the then editor of The State, as being too anti-German! Well
times have indeed changed!
And lest a prospective "Dick Sydney" should think that the picture of
that individual picking up a thousand carats of diamonds in an hour or
so is far-fetched, let me assure him that the first discoverers of the
Pomona fields, south of Luderitzbucht, did literally fill their pockets
with the precious stones in that space of time: and that other fields as
rich may well await discovery will be denied by few who know the
country.
"Ex Africa semper aliquid novo" never was saying truer! and
Damaraland, under the British flag, and with scope given to individual
enterprise, may well provide still another striking example of that old
adage.
FREDERICK C. CORNELL.
Cape Town, 1915.

A RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE KALAHARI

INTRODUCTORY

The manner of my meeting with him was strange in the extreme, and a
fitting prelude to the wild and fantastic story he told me.
I had been trading and elephant shooting in Portuguese territory in
Southern Angola; and hearing from my boys that ivory was plentiful in
German territory, farther south, I had crossed the Kunene River into
Amboland; and here, sure enough, I found elephants and ivory galore.
So good, indeed, was both sport and trade in this country of the
Ovampos that by the time I reached Etosha Pau my "trade" goods had
vanished, and my wagon was heavily laden with fine tusks. So far had I
penetrated into German territory that I decided to make my way
south-west towards Walfisch Bay instead of returning to Portuguese
territory. But I knew I must rest my cattle well before attempting it, for
it would mean an arduous trek; I had no guide, and there were no roads;
for at the time I speak of, the Germans had done but little to open up
the northern part of their territory; and indeed even to the present day
much of it still remains unexplored.
It is a wild and beautiful country, for the greater part well-wooded, and
teeming with game; though towards the east it becomes drier and
sandier until there stretches before the traveler nothing but the endless
dunes of the unknown Kalahari desert.
Untraversed, unexplored, and mysterious, this land of "The Great
Thirst" had always held a great fascination for me; its outlying dunes
began but a few miles east of my camp, and from an isolated granite
kopje near their border I had often gazed across the apparently limitless
sea of sand: stretching as far as the eye could reach to where the
dancing shimmer of the mirage linked sand and sky on the far horizon.
It was along the edge of these dunes that I one day followed a wounded

eland so far that dusk overtook me a long distance from my wagon. My
water-bottle was full, there was abundance of dry wood for a fire, and I
was just debating whether I would try and get back to the wagon, or
camp where I was, when my horse solved the question for me by
shying violently at something, and throwing me clean out of the saddle.
My head must have struck a stone, for I was stunned, and for a time I
knew no more.
When I came to myself it was dark, but a bright fire was burning near
me, a blanket covered me, and I was lying upon something soft.
Evidently some one was caring for me, and I concluded that my boys
had found me though I had given them strict instructions not to leave
the wagon.
"Jantje! Kambala!" I called, but there was no answer, and I tried to rise.
But my hurt had apparently been a severe one, for my head spun round,
the fire danced before my eyes, and I again lost consciousness.
When next I awoke the fire