and many years ago were occupied by that bloodthirsty tribe mentioned in my description of the Kalahara. The Griquas living here told me they have passed away, but the old man stated their fathers could remember them. The mountain road leaves Bultfontein and goes west no great distance from the river, over a very stony, road, on to the Pits, where several Griquas have comfortable houses, situated on a pleasant open space, rarely to be equalled for beautiful views in all directions. I remained here several days to ramble and explore the mountain tops. I took my driver in case of accidents, as leopards and lions were known to be there, as one old Griqua told me they frequently lost a goat by being taken from the kraal at night. Vegetation up the kloofs and on the slopes of the hills is very fine; beautiful tree-ferns, and every variety of other kinds, particularly the maiden-hair, which grows out amongst the rocks on the mountains, are very beautiful; also some very fine ground orchids, and a thorny bush with crimson flowers, as also many varieties of aloes.
This district contains copper and lead, and from the appearance of the quartz which crops out, I believe gold will be discovered when this part is prospected. One road from this place goes down to the river through a fearful valley; it is necessary to “reim” (tie) the four wheels of the waggon, otherwise it would go crash down into the precipice below, and then turn over and be smashed. This was the road I took to the river on a previous journey. The other passes on to Milk Stort Pass in the Langberg range, fifty miles more to the west, which I crossed on the western side, and outspanned under some fine old trees, close to a perpendicular rock at the foot of the Berg, where we found a small pool of water in the rocks, collected from the recent rains, and good grass. The pass over the mountains was a most difficult and dangerous road, large holes and boulders blocking the way. The scenery on both sides was grand, lofty and perpendicular rocks, 2000 feet high, with beautiful shrubs and flowers growing out from every crevice. The light and shadows thrown on the opposite hills by the setting sun gave beauty to the landscape.
At night some leopards paid my camp a visit; a few sheep I kept as a reserve for the road appear to have been the cause of their troubling me. A Bushman and his son came early in the morning and told my boys where the leopards could be found, and as their skins made splendid karosses, we arranged to hunt them down if possible, taking the Bushman as guide to point the way. Three of my boys, myself and two dogs, followed the spoor for several hundred yards. Up amongst the spurs of the mountain, the old Bushman pointed to a ledge of rocks overhanging others, surrounded by bush. We then sent the dogs to ascertain their whereabouts, for we knew there were at least two by their spoor on the sand. As soon as the dogs, by their barking and unmistakable fear, showed exactly where they were, we took up our position on separate rocks, forty yards distant from the tigers’ den. Two of my boys were to keep up a fire into where we knew them to be, myself and driver kept ready to overhaul any that might come out. We heard nothing but low growls from time to time; the affair began to be interesting. After nearly a dozen bullets had been sent in, out came a fine male leopard at one bound over some bushes, looking anything but amiable, and took a deliberate survey of his surroundings, his fine spotted skin shining in the sunlight—a beautiful animal. But this was only for a few moments; three bullets entered his body at once, when he gave a spring, and fell on one side, and as he did not appear quite dead I gave him another in the region of the heart, for I have known them drop like this, and then spring up and seize upon those near them. The other, which we concluded was the female, made her escape amongst the rocks. I then set the Bushman and my Hottentot boy to take off the skin, and the rest returned to the camp, where we found the dogs lying down by the fire, evidently ashamed of their desertion by their fawning manner to make friends. Animals have more sense than instinct; they knew perfectly well they had done wrong in leaving us.
This range of mountains, which runs due north, as I have stated, forms the south-eastern boundary of the Kalahara desert, and looking towards the west for thirty miles from the base the country is almost level, a few sand-dunes and gentle rises up to the Scheurberg mountain range, which looks one compact mass of lofty peaks. But on a close inspection, there are many detached and deep valleys running between. A native road passes about midway through on to the Koranna and Bastard stations on the Orange river. There are a great many lions in these hills, as it is uninhabited, except by Bushmen. On my previous exploration, where I outspanned near a Bushman kraal, one of them told my boys that a few days before our arrival a lion had entered one of the huts and carried off a young boy; they followed him in the dark with burning brands, but had to give up; they could only trace him by the screams of the lad, but they soon ceased. Across the desert from this point westward, it is 330 miles.
Leaving the camp the next morning after the leopard-hunt, we proceeded in a northerly direction for thirty-three miles along the west base of Langberg, and arrived, on the second day, opposite Speck Kopjie, where another pass crosses the mountain, which is a very stony and rough road, but the scenery grand on both sides, similar to that we passed through a few days ago, and arrived at a farm belonging to Potgieter, a Boer. From thence on to koppies, Mr Hyland’s farm, Blaaw Klip, is six miles beyond, where, in a hill, a soft stone is dug, which the natives form into pipes, plates, vases, and many other useful articles. And beyond, in a north-east direction, is Mount Hexley, Maremane and Coses, a Kaffir station. The formation of the hills is very peculiar, lofty, isolated koppies, covered, many of them, with thick bush, others almost bare, the naked rocks piled one upon another in grotesque forms. The dry river-bed passing through this part is a branch of the Kuruman river. We then crossed the Kuruman range, and arrived at the mission station 2nd April, 1865.
Before leaving this part of the Griqualand West, I should like to describe that peculiar sand-formation on the west side of the Landberg mountains, which is in fact part of it. I heard from many of the Griquas and Potgieter, living near it, that the lofty hills are constantly changing; that is, the sand-hills, 500 and 600 feet in height, in the course of a few years subside, and other sand-hills are formed where before it was level ground.
May 5th, Sunday.—Attended Mr Moffat’s church; the service is held in the Bechuana language. About 400 natives present. The singing is as well performed as it is in any English church at home. The Kaffirs, who are Bechuanas, have fine clear voices, and the women are well known to have sweet, musical voices. The service is well-conducted, and the natives as attentive as any white congregation in a civilised country. I first attended at this church in February 1868, when the Rev. Robert Moffat was living there, previous to his finally leaving for England. On 29th December, 1869, I was again there, detained for many weeks with a severe illness, and through the kind nursing of Mr and Mrs John Moffat, Mr and Mrs Levy, and other English residents, soon recovered. I remember well before leaving at that time they got up a little picnic party, to visit some ancient Bushmen caves, a few miles from the mission station towards the hills, taking a cart with provisions, the party riding, and a very enjoyable day we had. As we approached the hills the country became covered with bush and long grass, where I may safely say, several hundreds of baboons were busy seeking roots. The old men were very large, and to see the whole troop scuttle towards the hills with the babies on their mothers’ backs, with their little arms clinging round their necks, was a pretty and novel sight. Arriving at the caves, we found a long sand cliff projecting many yards over the lower part, affording shelter for several hundred families, perfectly secure and a safe retreat—but its ancient inhabitants are passed away and forgotten. We procured some very beautiful specimens of the trap-door spider; the workmanship of the door and its hinge, and the lining of the passage down to their nest is something marvellous. So far as I have discovered, there are three kinds of this species, distinguished by their size. The largest is a black spider, the body nearly an inch in length; the opening, or passage, and the door to their nest is the size of our English florin; the hole to the nest is perpendicular for from a foot to two feet, when an open space is beyond. The coating of this opening and the under side of the door is of a greyish white, and as soft and smooth as satin, and when the door is shut it fits so exactly as to be quite watertight. The top of the door is made to represent the ground round about, to be undistinguishable by an enemy. The second size trap-door is the size of a shilling, and the third the size of a fourpenny-bit. But the spiders are of the same type; where one kind is found in a district the others are not, showing they occupy separate localities. I have frequently found the door open and thrown back, showing
