OUT ON THE VELDT.

Otago Witness, Issue 2303, 21 April 1898, Page 45

OUT ON THE VELDT.

Lilian Obpen, in the Cape Magazine.

To strangers Griqualand West may appear a very uninteresting part of the world, with its endless grass flats, scattered patches of thorn trees and vaal bush, its barren-looking irenstone " kopjies," and stretches of rough, stcny ground covered with " haktjesdoorn " and "steek gras." But to those who spend their lives there it has charms that an outsider cannot understand. Ox-waggon travelling, which is rapidly becoming a tiling of the past, is by far the best way of seeing the country if you really Avant to study it. No doubt it has -its drawbacks, and a. great deal has been said against it, that it is " uncomfortable and tedious," but, for a man especially, it is a very pleasant way of getting about. As for discomfort, some people are never comfortable anywhere ; while others, who know how to manage, can make even a "waggon feel like home. To people who come from the lovely Eastern Province with its forests, bush, and fern-filled kloofs, its mountains, hills, or grassy slopes, or the no less beautiful Western Province, the veldt may look dry, barren, and ugly, but wait till the summer rains have fallen and the flats — that have been scorched by the sun's fierce rays till the grass is bleached' and brittle, and the earth so dry and powdered that it rises in clouds of dust at the" slightest breeze — will be transformed into a silvery sea of tall, waving grass that JcUueiffl Wid diUttgs a^tiie cfloJkjjpifc wjfid

passes over it, and delicate pale blue hairbells, golden yellow lassia, dusky purple grapple, and flowers with unknown names, come up from the rich damp ground and brighten the world for a while. The thorn trees with the dust washed off their leaves are fresh and green, and the birds are busy among their branches, their untidy nests looking like bundles of grass that have been thrown up into the tree. Perhaps you startle a covey of pretty namaqua partridges that are feeding by the roadside, they rise %vith a whirr of wings and are gone before you have well seen them. Out of the grass every now and then small dark birds fly up, up, up, into the air with a long sweet whistle and then drop quietly down again and are lost to sight in a moment. You can hear the queer cry of the korhaan, carac, carac, caractacus, caractacus, they seem to be all over the flat, for you hear it faint and far away, and then so near as to startle 3'ou, as one rises and flies off in a funny hesitating way with its long legs dangling. Away down in a hollow you can see a troop of springbucks grazing ; as you turn from locking at them you<notice a dark head bobbing up and down in the grass about a hundred yards away. You know it belongs to a " kuif kop " or " zom " paauw, the finest of all the game ""birds; your gun is ready, and as he crosses an open space by a lucky shot you get him. What a splendid fellow he is ! as big and heavy as a turkey, and very good to eat, as you know from experience. In all directions about the flat are ant-hills, which, as you drive along in the dusk, assume all kinds of uncanny shapes : there are so many of them, some short and thick, and oLhers slight and taller than a man ; how many yea 1 5, and how many generations of ants it must have taken to make them !

The kopjies rise in a curiously abrupt way out of the surrounding flatness ; though they are literally covered with ironstone boulders there are hardly any stones to be found a few yards away from them. In some parts of the country they have wild olives growing on them, in others vaal and other bushes. Among the rocks grow two or three varieties of , fern, but except just after rain they are generally brown and withered. There are many wild Sowers to be found on them too, " barleria " with its delicate fragile flowers and queer flat seeds that go off with a little crack when you put them in water; and small aloes with gay red and yellow bloossoms, a source of continual delight to the dainty little honey-bird, that looks like a dusky butterfly as he hovers OA'er the flowers, thrusting his long, curved bill into their sweetened depths; and yellow broom, and freesias, and lovely grasses. When you have crossed the fiat you generally come lo a stretch of higher, more broken country. Ridges of limestone show up out of the sand (for bumpiness there is nothing to equal a sandy road with limestones every here Mid there a few inches below the surface). "The vaal bushes are a welcome change from the tall, dark thorn trees on the flat. As it is getting late you decide to cmtspan, and turn out of the road to a clump of bushes, where the waggon will be sheltered from the wind. The " leader " goes off with the oxen to let them feed for a while before being tied up for the night, and the driver collects wood, makes a fire, and soon has the kettle boiling. ThE fresh air has given yon a splendid appetite, and you are quite ready for your &upper. As you intend to move on in the morning you do not trouble to put up the tenb you have with, you : the waggon is your bedroom, and the native driver and leader will sleep out in the open or under the waggon, 'mere is a thick bank of clouds to the ■westwai'd, and they are spreading rapidly over the sky. You have scarcely finished your meal when the wind begins to moan among the bushes, and big raindrops fall with a splutter and hiss in the hot ash of the fire, there is a deep roll of thunder overhead, and the next moment down conies the rain ! The wind has risen to a gale now, and seems to take the waggon in its hands and shake it fiercely every now and then. The vivid lightning almost blinds you, and nothing can be heard except the roar of- thunder and the steady sound of the drenching rain. It doesn't last very long, however, and ceases as suddenly as it came.

The moon has risen, and as you stand on the front of the waggon drawing in long breaths of pure, cool air, you can see the ragged, dark clouds, fringed with silver for a moment as they cross the moon, hurried on by the wind. Suddenly you are startled by a weird, strange cry as a couple of i^lovers (" kivitjes ") flit by overhead. Away in the bushes-you hear the harsh " ha, ha f " of a jackal, answered by another farther off. The tyro natives are asleep, regardless of storm and rain, and as you intend to be up early, you follow their example and are soon in bed. In the night you are awakened by a noise that puzzles you for a moment, till you remember that there is a big " kopjie " not far off, and that something must have disturbed the baboons that have their haunts there. They are quiet at night as a rule, unless something frightens them. They are very ugly brutes, and do a great deal of damage, especially in the dry seasons, when the drought makes them venturesome. The young ones are often caught and tamed, but are gruesome pets to have ; you cannot help laughing at their quaint ways, while their eyes, full of an unutterable sadness, look reproachingly at you out of their ugly heads. Early, just as the day is breaking, you wake, and, lifting the " clap," look out at the coming morning. To your entire surprise you see a little group of five or six springbucks that have been sleeping not more than two hundred yards from the waggon.

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They are just getting up, stretching themselves lazily ana giving queer little coughs, "phrumph! phrmnph!" as they move slowly away, feeding as they go. Such graceful things they look, with their beautiful heads, smooth skins, and long, slender legs. Suddenly something startles them and they dash away through the bushes. The air is full of the fresh aromatic scent of the vaal bushes that look ghostly and white in the pale, faint light of the dawn. There are birds whistling, twittering, and singing everywhere — glad, sweet "sounds that make you smile as you hear them. Then the sun flushes the sky a soft, clear pink, and in a few moments is up and shining over the glorious rain-washed world.

By this time the driver has made coffee, and after having a cup or two and some biscuits you take your gun and walk on ahead, leaving the " boys " to inspan and follow with the waggon. As you walk along beside the road you see all manner of creatures, birds of every shape and size, numberless insects and lizards, and maybe the trail of a snake showing sharp and clear in the moist red sand. You can hear the redwing calling, and two " vlak " paauws fly past just out of range ; you catch a glimpse of a jackal, but lie slinks out of sight before you can get a shot at him. A funny little " meer-cat " dashes across the road to his family burrow, where he sits straight up on his hind legs, looking at you for a moment with his sharp, bright, black eyes, before he vanishes down the hole.

Then you start a steinbuck, the neatest, prettiest little buck in the Avorld, with such great sad, dark eyes, such slight, delicate legs and dainty feet ! You can hear the rumbling of the waggon and the smart crack of the (.'•river's long whip ; and, as the sun is beginning to make itself felt, you sit down in the shade of a bush to wait for it. There are queer-looking ants running about your feet in the aimless way peculiar to them; there are large black ones with a yellow ring round their flat oval bodies, and rather evil-looking nippers on their heads ; and others so small that you can hardly see them; but big or little they are all in a terrible hurry.