WEAPONS OF THE HOTTENTOT AND THEIR USE — HIS VORACITY, AND CAPABILITY OF BEARING HUNGER — MODE OF COOKING — POWER OF SLEEP — DISTINCTION BETWEEN HOTTENTOTS AND KAFFIRS — CATTLE AND THEIR USES — THE BAKELEYS OR FIGHTING OXEN — A HOTTENTOT’S MEMORY FOR A COW — MARRIAGE — POLYGAMY NOT OFTEN PRACTISED — WANT OF RELIGION — LANGUAGE OF THE HOTTENTOTS — THE CHARACTERISTIC “CLICKS” — AMUSEMENTS OF THE HOTTENTOTS — SINGING AND DANCING — SUBJECT OF THEIR SONGS — THE MAN’S DANCE — ALL AMUSEMENTS RESTRICTED TO NIGHT — THE MELON DANCE — “CARD-PLAYING” — LOVE OF A PRACTICAL JOKE — INABILITY TO MEASURE TIME — WARFARE — SICKNESS, DEATH, AND BURIAL.

The weapons which the Hottentots use are mostly the bow and arrow. These weapons are almost identical with those employed by the Bosjesmans, and will be described in a future page. They also employ the assagai, but do not seem to be particularly fond of it, lacking the muscular strength which enables the Kaffir to make such terrible use of it. Moreover, the Hottentot does not carry a sheaf of these weapons, but contents himself with a single one, which he does not throw until he is at tolerably close quarters.

He is, however, remarkable for his skill in throwing the knob-kerrie, which is always of the short form, so that he can carry several of them in his belt. In fact, he uses the kerrie much as the Kaffir uses the assagai, having always a quantity of them to his hand, and hurling them one after the other with deadly accuracy of aim. With these weapons, so useless in the hands of an ordinary European, he can match himself against most of the ordinary animals of Southern Africa, excepting, of course, the larger elephants, rhinoceros, and hippopotamus, and the predaceous felidæ, such as the lion or leopard. These, however, he can destroy by means of pitfalls and other ingenious devices, and if a Hottentot hunter sets himself determinedly to kill or capture any given animal, that creature’s chances of life are but small.

When he has succeeded in killing game, his voracity is seen to equal his patience. Hunger he can endure with wonderful indifference, tightening his belt day by day, and contriving to support existence on an almost inappreciable quantity of food. But, when he can only procure meat, he eats with a continued and sustained voracity that is almost incredible. For quality be cares but little, and so that he can obtain unlimited supplies of meat, he does not trouble himself whether it be tough or tender. Whenever one of a horde of Hottentots succeeds in killing a large animal, such as an elephant or hippopotamus, and it happens to be at a distance from the kraal, the inhabitants prefer to strike their tent-like houses and to remove them to the animal rather than trouble themselves by making repeated journeys to and fro. The chief reason for this strange conduct is, that, if they took the latter alternative, they would deprive themselves of one of the greatest luxuries which a Hottentot can enjoy. Seldom tasting meat, they become semi-intoxicated under its influence, and will gorge themselves to the utmost limit of endurance, sleeping after the fashion of a boa-constrictor that has swallowed a goat, and then awaking only to gorge themselves afresh, and fall asleep again.

There is an excuse for this extraordinary exhibition of gluttony, namely, that the hot climate causes meat to putrefy so rapidly that it must be eaten at once if it is eaten at all. Even as it is, the Hottentots are often obliged to eat meat that is more than tainted, and from which even the greatest admirer of high game would recoil with horror. They do not, however, seem to trouble themselves about such trifles, and devour the tainted meat as eagerly as if it were perfectly fresh. Whatever may be the original quality of the meat, it owes nothing to the mode in which it is dressed, for the Hottentots are perhaps the very worst cooks in the world. They take an earthen pot, nearly fill it with water, put it on the fire, and allow it to boil. They then cut up their meat into lumps as large as a man’s fist, throw them into the pot, and permit them to remain there until they are wanted. Sometimes, when the feasters are asleep themselves, they allow the meat to remain in the pot for half a day or so, during which time the women are obliged to keep the water continually boiling, and it may be imagined the ultimate result of their cooking is not particularly palatable.

It has already been mentioned that the Hottentot tribes are remarkable for their appetites. They are no less notable for their power of sleep. A thorough-bred Hottentot can sleep at any time, and it is almost impossible to place him under conditions in which he will not sleep. If he be pinched with hunger, and can see no means of obtaining food either by hunting or from the ground, he lies down, rolls himself up in his kaross, and in a few moments is wrapped in slumber. Sleep to him almost answers the purpose of food, and he can often say with truth that “he who sleeps dines.” When he sleeps his slumber is truly remarkable, as it appears more like a lethargy than sleep, as we understand the word. A gun may be fired close to the ear of a sleeping Hottentot and he will not notice it, or, at all events, will merely turn himself and sink again to repose. Even in sleep there is a distinction between the Kaffir and the Hottentot. The former lies at full length on his mat, while the other coils himself up like a human hedgehog. In spite of the evil atmosphere of their huts, the Hottentots are companionable even in their sleep, and at night the door of a hut will be covered with a number of Hottentots, all lying fast asleep, and so mixed up together that it is scarcely possible to distinguish the various bodies to which the limbs belong. The illustration No. 3, page 247, gives a good idea of this singular custom.

The cattle of the Hottentots have several times been mentioned. These, like the Kaffir oxen, are used as beasts of burden and for riding, and are accoutred in the same manner, i. e. by a leathern rope passed several times round the body, and hauled tight by men at each end. Perhaps the reader may remember that in days long gone by, when the Hottentots were a powerful nation and held the command of Southern Africa, their kraals or villages were defended by a peculiar breed of oxen, which were especially trained for that purpose, and which answered the same purpose as the watch-dogs which now beset the villages. These oxen were said to be trained to guard the entrance of the kraal, and to know every inhabitant of the village, from the oldest inhabitant down to the child which could only just crawl about. Strangers they would not permit to approach the kraal except when escorted by one of the inhabitants, nor would they suffer him to go out again except under the same protection.

This story is generally supposed to be a mere fabrication, and possibly may be so. There is, however, in my collection an ox-horn which was brought from Southern Africa by the Rev. Mr. Shooter, and of which no one could give an account. It is evidently very old, and, although the horn of a domesticated variety of cattle, is quite unlike the horns of the oxen which belong to the native tribes of the present day, being twice as large, and having altogether a different aspect. It is just such a horn as might have belonged to the oxen aforesaid, and, although it cannot be definitely said to have grown on the head of one of these animals, there is just a possibility that such may have been the case.

Like the Kaffir, the Hottentot has a wonderful recollection of an ox. If he but sees one for a minute or two he will remember that ox again, wherever it may be, and even after the lapse of several years. He will recognize it in the midst of a herd, even in a strange place, where he could have no expectation of meeting it, and he will remember its “spoor,” and be able to trace its footsteps among the tracks of the whole herd. He has even been known to discover a stolen cow by seeing a calf which she had produced after she was stolen, and which he recognized from its likeness to its mother.

The marriages of the Hottentots are very simple affairs, and consist merely in paying a certain price and taking the bride home. In Kolben’s well-known work there is a most elaborate and circumstantial description of a Hottentot marriage, detailing with needless precision a number of extraordinary rites performed by the priest over the newly-wedded pair. Now, inasmuch as the order of priests is not known to have existed among the Hottentots, and certainly did not exist in Kolben’s time, the whole narrative falls to the ground. The fact is, that Kolben found it easier to describe second-hand than to investigate for himself, and the consequence was, that the Dutch colonists, from whom he gained his information, amused themselves by imposing upon his credulity.

Polygamy, although not prohibited among the Hottentots, is but rarely practised. Some men have several wives, but this is the exception, and not the rule.

As they have no priests, so they have no professional doctors. They are all adepts in the very slight amount of medical and surgical knowledge which is required by them, and have no idea of a separate order of men who practise the healing art. Unlike the Kaffirs, who are the most superstitious of mankind, the Hottentots are entirely free from superstition, inasmuch as they have not the least conception of any religious sentiments whatsoever. The present world forms the limit of all their ideas, and they seem, so far as is known, to be equally ignorant of a Creator and of the immortality of the soul.

The language of the Hottentot races is remarkable for a peculiarity which is, I believe, restricted to themselves and to the surrounding tribes, who have evidently learned it from them. This is the presence of the “click,” which is found in almost all the tribes that inhabit Southern Africa, with the exception of the Amazulu, who are free from this curious adjunct to their language, and speak a tongue as soft as Italian. There are three of these “clicks,” formed by the tongue, the teeth, and the palate, and each of them alters the signification of the word with which it is used. The first, which is in greatest use, is made by pressing the tip of the tongue against the upper front teeth, and then smartly disengaging it. The sound is exactly like that which is produced by some persons when they are annoyed. The second click is formed by pressing the tongue against the roof of the mouth, and then sharply withdrawing it, so as to produce a sound like that which is used by grooms when urging a horse. It has to be done, however, with the least possible force that will produce the effect, as otherwise the click and the syllable to which it is joined cannot be sounded simultaneously. The last click is much louder than the others, and is formed by drawing the tongue back as far as possible, and pressing the tip against the back of the palate. It is then forced rapidly toward the lips, so as to produce a much deeper and more sonorous sound than can be obtained by the two former modes.

In the few words which can be given to this branch of the subject, we will distinguish these several sounds by the titles of “clack,” “click,” and “cluck.” The reader will find it very difficult to produce either of these sounds simultaneously with a part of a word, but, if he should desire to make himself understood in the Hottentot dialect, it is absolutely necessary that he should do so. How needful these curious adjuncts are has been well shown by Le Vaillant. For instance, the word Aap, without any click at all, signifies a horse, but with the click it signifies an arrow, and with the clack it becomes the name of a river. It is, of course, impossible to reduce this language to any known alphabet, and the necessary consequence is that hardly any two travellers who have written accounts of the Hottentot tribes have succeeded in spelling words so that they would be recognized, or in such a manner that the reader would be able to pronounce them. The general mode of expressing these clicks is by prefixing the letters ts or g to the word, and the reader may find a very familiar example in the word Gnoo, which ought really to be spelt without the g, and with some prefix which would denote the kind of click which is used with it.

The amusements of the Hottentots consist chiefly of singing and dancing, together with playing on a curious instrument called the Goura. This instrument, however, belongs rather to the Bosjesman group of the Hottentot race, and will therefore be described in a future page. Their songs are also evidently derived from the same source, and their melodies are identical. Examples of Bosjesman songs will be presently given, together with the description of the Goura. In the words of the songs, however, the Hottentots have the advantage, as they always have some signification, whereas those of the Bosjesmans have not even the semblance of meaning, and are equivalent to the do, re, mi, &c., of modern music.

Le Vaillant mentions that the subject of the songs which the Hottentots sang was almost always some adventure which had happened to themselves, so that, like the negroes, they can sing throughout the whole night, by the simple expedient of repeating the words of their song over and over again. They prefer the night to the day for this purpose, because the atmosphere is cooler, and the tasks of the day are over.

“When they are desirous of indulging in this amusement, they join hands and form a circle of greater or less extent, in proportion to the number of male and female dancers, who are always mixed with a kind of symmetry. When the chain is made, they turn round from one side to another, separating at certain intervals to mark the measure, and from time to time clap their hands without interrupting the cadence, while with their voices they accompany the sound of the instrument, and continually chant ‘Hoo! Hoo!’ This is the general burden of their song.

“Sometimes one of the dancers quits the circle, and, going to the centre, performs there alone a few steps after the English manner, all the merit and beauty of which consist in performing them with equal quickness and precision, without stirring from the spot where he stands. After this they all quit each other’s hands, follow one another carelessly with an air of terror and melancholy, their heads leaning to one shoulder, and their eyes cast down toward the ground, which they look at with attention; and in a moment after they break forth in the liveliest demonstration of joy, and the most extravagant merriment.

“They are highly delighted with this contrast when it is well performed. All this is at bottom but an alternate assemblage of very droll and amusing pantomimes. It must be observed that the dancers make a hollow monotonous kind of humming, which never ceases, except when they join the spectators and sing the wonderful chorus, ‘Hoo! Hoo!’ which appears to be the life and soul of this magnificent music. They usually conclude with a general ball; that is to say, the ring is broken and they all dance in confusion as each chooses, and upon this occasion they display all their strength and agility. The most expert dancers repeat, by way of defiance to each other, those dangerous leaps and musical quivers of our grand academies, which excite laughter as deservedly as the ‘Hoo! Hoo!’ of Africa.”

Whether for singing, dancing, or other relaxation, the Hottentots never assemble except by night, the day being far too precious for mere amusement. During the day the men are engaged in the different pursuits of their life, some being far from their home on the track of some animal which they are hunting, and whose flesh is devoted to the support of themselves and their families. Other are laboriously making snares, digging pitfalls, or going the rounds of those which are already made, so that animals which have been captured may be removed, and the snares reset. They have also to make their bows, arrows, spears, and clubs, operations which absorb much time, partly because their tools are few and imperfect, and partly because all their work is undertaken with a degree of deliberation which is exceedingly irritating to an European spectator.

The women, too, are engaged in their own occupations, which are infinitely more laborious than those of the men, and consist of all kinds of domestic work, including taking down and putting up the huts, collecting wood for the evening fires, and preparing the food for the men when they return home. With the shades of evening all attempts at industry are given up, and the Hottentots amuse themselves throughout nearly the entire night. The savage does not by any means go to bed with the birds and arise with them, as is popularly supposed, and almost invariably is an incorrigible sitter-up at night, smoking, talking, singing, dancing, and otherwise amusing himself, as if he had done nothing whatever all day.

Perhaps he may owe the capability of enduring such constant dissipation to the fact that he can command sleep at will, and that his slumber is so deep as to be undisturbed by the clamor that is going on around him. If, for example, a Hottentot has been hunting all day, and has returned home weary with the chase and with carrying the animals, he will not think of sleeping until he has had his supper, smoked his pipe, and enjoyed an hour or two of dancing and singing. But, as soon as he feels disposed to cease from his amusements, he retires from the circle, rolls himself up in his kaross, lies down, and in a few seconds is fast asleep, unheeding the noise which is made close to his ears by his companions who are still pursuing their revels.

There is a singular dance which is much in vogue among the young Hottentot girls, and which is, as far as I know, peculiar to them. As a small melon is the chief object of the sport, it goes by the name of the Melon Dance, and is thus performed:—In the evening, when the air is cool, the girls assemble and choose one of their number as a leader. She takes a small round melon in her hands, and begins to run in a circle, waving her arms and flinging about her limbs in the wildest imaginable way. The others follow her and imitate her movements, and, as they are not impeded by many trammels of dress, and only wear the ordinary cap and girdle of leathern thongs, their movements are full of wild grace. As the leader runs round the course, she flings the melon in the air, catches it, flings it again, and at last stoops suddenly, leaps into the air, and throws the melon beneath her toward the girl who follows her. The object of this dance is twofold. The second girl has to catch the melon without ceasing from her course, and the first has to throw it when she fancies that the second is off her guard. Consequently, she makes all kinds of feints, pretending to throw the melon several times, and trying to deceive by every means in her power. If the second girl fails in catching the melon the first retains her leadership, but if she succeeds she becomes leader, and goes through the same manœuvres. In this way the melon goes round and round, and the sport is continued until the dancers are too fatigued to continue it.

From the above description some persons might fancy that this dance offends the sense of decorum. It does not so. It is true that the style of clothing which is worn by the dancers is not according to European notions, but, according to their own ideas, it is convenient and according to usage. Neither is there anything in the dance itself which ought to shock a rightly constituted mind. It is simply an ebullition of youthful spirits, and has nothing in common with dances in many parts of the world which are avowedly and intendedly licentious, and which, whether accompanied by more or less clothing than is worn by these Hottentot girls, are repulsive rather than attractive to any one who possesses any amount of self-respect.

In this instance the dance is conducted in perfect innocence, and the performers have no more idea of impropriety in the scanty though graceful and artistic dress they wear, than has an English lady at appearing with her face unveiled. As long as clothing is not attempted, it does not seem to be required, but, when any portion of European clothing is assumed, the whole case is altered. Mr. Baines narrates a little corroborative incident. He was travelling in a wagon, accompanied, as usual, by Hottentots and their families. The latter, mostly females, were walking by the side of the wagon, wearing no costume but the slight leathern girdle. It so happened that some old shoes were thrown out of the wagon, and immediately appropriated by the women, who have an absurd hankering after European apparel. No sooner had they put on shoes than they looked naked. They had not done so before, but even that slight amount of civilized clothing seemed to suggest that the whole body had to be clothed also, and so strong was this feeling that Mr. Baines found means of removing the obnoxious articles of apparel.

The Hottentots have a remarkable game which they call by the name of Card-playing, apparently because no cards are used in it. This game is simply an exhibition of activity and quickness of hand, being somewhat similar in principle to our own boy’s game of Odd and Even. It is illustrated on the opposite page, and is thus described by Burchell:—

“At one of the fires an amusement of a very singular and nearly unintelligible kind was the source of great amusement, not only to the performers themselves, but to all the bystanders. They called it Card-playing, a word in this instance strangely misapplied. Two Hottentots, seated opposite each other on the ground, were vociferating, as if in a rage, some particular expressions in their own language: laughing violently, throwing their bodies on either side, tossing their arms in all directions—at one moment with their hands close together, at another stretched out wide apart; up in the air at one time, or in an instant down to the ground; sometimes with them closed, at other times exhibiting them open to their opponent. Frequently in the heat of the game they started upon their knees, falling back immediately on the ground again; and all this in such a quick, wild, extraordinary manner, that it was impossible, after watching their motions for a long time, to discover the nature of their game, or to comprehend the principle on which it was founded, any more than a person entirely ignorant of the moves at chess could learn that by merely looking on.

“This is a genuine Hottentot game, as every one would certainly suppose, on seeing the uncouth manner in which it is played. It is, they say, of great antiquity, and at present practised only by such as have preserved some portion of their original customs, and they pretend that it is not every Hottentot who possesses the talent necessary for playing it in perfection.

“I found some difficulty in obtaining an intelligible explanation, but learned at last that the principle consists in concealing a small piece of stick in one hand so dexterously that the opponent shall not be able, when both closed hands are presented to him, to distinguish in which it is held, while at the same time he is obliged to decide by some sign or motion either on one or the other. As soon as the opponent has gained a certain number of guesses, he is considered to have won a game, and it then becomes his turn to take the stick, and display his ingenuity in concealing it and in deceiving the other. In this manner the games are continued alternately, often the whole night long, or until the players are exhausted with fatigue. In the course of them various little incidents, either of ingenuity or of mistake, occur to animate their exertions, and excite the rude, harmless mirth of their surrounding friends.” The reader will probably see the close resemblance between this game played by the Hottentots of Southern Africa and the well-known game of “Morro,” that is so popular in several parts of Southern Europe.

The Hottentot seems to be as fond of a practical joke as the Kaffir, and to take it as good-humoredly. On one occasion, when a traveller was passing through Africa with a large party, several of the Hottentots, who ought to have been on the watch, contrived to draw near the fire, and to fall asleep. Some of their companions determined to give them a thorough fright, and to recall to their minds that they ought to have been watching and not sleeping. Accordingly, they went off to a little distance, and shot a couple of Bosjesman arrows close to the sleepers. Deep as is a Hottentot’s slumber, he can shake off sleep in a moment at the approach of danger, and, although the loudest sound will not wake him, provided that it be of a harmless character, an almost inaudible sound will reach his ears, provided that it presage danger. As soon as the sleeping Hottentots heard the twang of the bow, they sprang up in alarm, which was not decreased by the sight of the arrows falling close to them, sprang to the wagon for their arms, and were received with a shout of laughter.

However, they soon had their revenge. One dark evening the young men were amusing themselves with setting fire to some dried reeds a few hundred yards from the camp. While they were enjoying the waves of fire as they rolled along, driven by the wind, the Hottentots stole behind the reeds, and with the shell of an ostrich egg imitated the roar of an approaching lion so accurately, that the young men began to shout in order to drive the lion away, and at last ran to the camp screaming with terror. Of course the songs that were sung in the camp that night were full of reference to Bosjesmans and lions.

The Hottentot has a constitutional inability to compute time. A traveller can never discover the age of a Hottentot, partly because the man himself has not the least notion of his age, or indeed of annual computation at all, and partly because a Hottentot looks as old at thirty-five as at sixty-five. He can calculate the time of day by the position of the sun with regard to the meridian, but his memory will not serve him so far as to enable him to compute annual time by the height of the sun above the horizon. As is the case with most savage races, his unit of time is the new moon, and he makes all his reckonings of time to consist of so many moons. An amusing instance of this deficiency is given by Dr. Lichtenstein, in his “Travels in South Africa”:—

“A Hottentot, in particular, engaged our attention by the simplicity with which he told his story. After he had harangued for a long time in broken Dutch, we collected so much as that he agreed with a colonist to serve him for a certain time, at fixed wages, as herdsman, but before the time expired they had parted by mutual agreement. The dispute was how much of the time remained; consequently, how much wages the master had a right to deduct from the sum which was to have been paid for the whole time.

“To illustrate this matter, the Hottentot gave us the following account:—‘My Baas,’ said he, ‘will have it that I was to serve so long’ (and here he stretched out his left arm and hand, and laid the little finger of his right hand directly under the arm); ‘but I say that I only agreed to serve so long,’ and here he laid his right hand upon the joint of the left. Apparently, he meant by this to signify that the proportion of the time he had served with that he had agreed to serve was the same as the proportion of what he pointed out of the arm to the whole length of it. At the same time he showed us a small square stick, in which, at every full moon, he had made a little notch, with a double one at the full moon when he quitted the colonist’s service. As the latter was present, and several of the colonists and Hottentots, who attended as auditors, could ascertain exactly the time of entering on the service, the conclusion was, as is very commonly the case, that both the master and the servant were somewhat in the wrong; that the one reckoned too much of the time expired, the other too little; and that, according to the Hottentot’s mode of measuring, the time expired came to about the knuckle.

“The Hottentots understand no other mode of measuring time but by lunar months and days; they have no idea of the division of the day into hours. If a man asks a Hottentot how far it is to such a place, he either makes no answer, or points to a certain spot in the heavens, and says, ‘The sun will be there when you get to it.’”

Warfare among the Hottentots scarcely deserves the name, because we can hardly use such a term as “warfare” where there is no distinction of officer or private, where there is no commander, and no plan of action. The men who are able to wield the bow and arrow advance in a body upon the enemy, and are led by any one who thinks himself brave enough to take the command. When they come to close quarters with the enemy, every one fights in the way that suits himself best, without giving support to those of his own side, or expecting it from his comrades. Even the chief man of a horde is not necessarily the leader, and indeed his authority over the horde is more nominal than real. A mere boy may assume the leadership of the expedition, and, if he is courageous enough to take the lead, he may keep it until some still braver warrior comes to the front. It evident that such warfare is merely a succession of skirmishes or duels, much as was the case in the days of Hector and Achilles, each soldier selecting his own particular adversary, and fighting him until one of the two is killed, runs away, or renders himself prisoner.

As far as is known, the Hottentots never made war, according to the usual acceptation of the word. If insulted or aggrieved by having their cattle stolen, they would go off and make reprisals, but they had no idea of carrying on war for any political object. This is probably the reason why they were so completely overcome by the Kaffir tribes, who had some knowledge of warfare as an art, and who drove them further and further away from their own domains, until their nationality was destroyed, and they were reduced to a mere aggregation of scattered tribes, without unity, and consequently without power.

However nationally unwarlike the Hottentot may be, and however incapable he may be of military organization, he can be made into a soldier who is not only useful, but unapproachable in his own peculiar line. Impatient, as a rule, of military discipline, he hates above all things to march in step, to go through the platoon exercise, and to perform those mechanical movements which delight the heart of the drill-sergeant. He is, as a rule, abhorrent of anything like steady occupation, and this tendency of mind incapacitates him from being an agriculturist, while it aids in qualifying him for the hunter’s life. Now, as a rule, a good hunter makes a good soldier, especially of the irregular kind, and the training which is afforded by the pursuit of the fleet, powerful, and dangerous beasts of Africa, makes the Hottentot one of the best irregular soldiers in the world.

But he must be allowed to fight in his own way, to choose his own time for attack, to make it in the mode that suits him best, and to run away if flight happens to suit him better than battle. He has not the least idea of getting himself killed or wounded on mere points of honor; and if he sees that the chances of war are likely to go much against him, he quietly retreats, and “lives to fight another day.” To this mode of action he is not prompted by any feeling of fear, but merely by the commonsense view of the case. His business is to kill the enemy, and he means to do it. But that desirable object cannot be attained if he allows them to kill him, and so he guards himself against the latter event as much as possible. Indeed, if he is wounded when he might have avoided a wound, he feels heartily ashamed of himself for having committed such an error; and if he succeeds in killing or wounding an enemy without suffering damage himself, he glories in his superior ingenuity, and makes merry over the stupidity of his foe.

Fear—as we understand the word—has very little influence over the Hottentot soldier, whether he be trained to fight with the white man’s fire-arms, or whether he uses the bow and arrow of his primitive life. If he must fight, he will do so with a quiet and dogged valor, and any enemy that thinks to conquer him will find that no easy task lies before him.

Mr. Christie has narrated to me several incidents which show the obstinate courage with which a Hottentot can fight when pressed. One of them is as follows:—

“During the Kaffir war of 1847, a body of Hottentots were surrounded by a large party of Kaffirs, and, after a severe struggle, succeeded in cutting their way through their dark foes. One of the Hottentots, however, happened to be wounded near the spine, so that he lost the use of his legs, and could not stand. Even though suffering under this severe injury, he would not surrender, but dragged himself to an ant-hill, and supported his back against it, so that his arms were at liberty. In this position he continued to load and fire, though completely exposed to the bullets and assagais of the Kaffirs. So true was his aim, even under these circumstances, that he killed and wounded a considerable number of them; and, when a reinforcing party came to their help, the brave fellow was at the point of death, but still breathing, though his body was completely riddled with bullets, and cut to pieces with spears.”

This anecdote also serves to show the extraordinary tenacity of life possessed by this race—a tenacity which seems to rival that of the lower reptiles. On one occasion, Mr. Christie was in a surgeon’s house in Grahamstown, when a Hottentot walked in, and asked the surgeon to look at his head, which had been damaged on the previous night by a blow from a knob-kerrie. He took off his hat and the handkerchief which, according to custom, was wrapped round his head, and exhibited an injury which would have killed most Europeans on the spot, and certainly would have prostrated them utterly. On the crown of his head there was a circular wound, about an inch in diameter, and more than half an inch deep, the bone having been driven down on the brain by a blow from the heavy knob of the weapon. The depressed part of the skull was raised as well as could be done, and the remainder cut away. The operation being over, the man replaced his hat and handkerchief, and walked away, apparently little the worse for his accident, or the operation which succeeded it.

On another occasion, the same gentleman saw a Hottentot wagon-driver fall from his seat under the wheels. One of the forewheels passed over his neck, and, as the wagon was loaded with some two tons of firewood, it might be supposed that the man was killed on the spot. To the surprise of the beholder, he was not only alive when free of the wheel, but had presence of mind to roll out of the way of the hind wheel, which otherwise must have gone over him. Mr. Christie ran to him, and helped him to his feet. In answer to anxious questions, he said that he was not much hurt, except by some small stones which had been forced into his skin, and which he asked Mr. Christie to remove. Indeed, these men seem not only to be tenacious of life, but to suffer very little pain from injuries that would nearly kill a white man, or at all events would cause him to be nearly dead with pain alone. Yet, callous as they are to bodily injuries, they seem to be peculiarly susceptible to poison that mixes with the blood, and, if bitten by a snake, or wounded by a poisoned arrow, to have very much less chance of life than a European under similar conditions.

We will conclude this history of the Hottentots with a few remarks on their treatment of sickness and their burial of the dead.

When Hottentots are ill they obey the instinct which seems to be implanted equally in man and beast, and separate themselves from their fellows. Sometimes they take the trouble to have a small hut erected at a distance from the kraal, but in all cases they keep themselves aloof as far as possible, and do not mix with their companions until their health is restored. Of professional physicians they know nothing, and have in this respect a decided advantage over the Kaffirs, who are horribly tormented in their hours of sickness by the witch-doctor, who tries, by all kinds of noisy incantations, to drive out the evil spirit which is tormenting the sick man. There are certainly some men among them who possess a kind of knowledge of pharmacy, and these men are liberal enough of their advice and prescriptions. But they do not form a distinct order of men, nor do they attempt to work cures by superhuman means. They are more successful in treating wounds and bodily injuries than in the management of diseases, because in the former case there is something tangible with which they can cope, whereas they cannot see a disease, nor can they produce any immediate and visible effect, as is the case with a bodily injury.

Sometimes a curious kind of ceremony seems to be performed, which is probably analogous to the shampooing that is in vogue in many parts of the earth. The patient lies prostrate while a couple of women, one on either side, pound and knead him with their closed fists, at the same time uttering loud cries close to his ear. This apparently rough treatment seems to have some amount of efficacy in it, as Sparrman mentions that he has seen it practised on the apparently lifeless body of a young man who eventually recovered.

Of all diseases the Hottentots dread nothing so much as the small-pox; and if a single member of the horde be taken with it they leave him in his hut, strike all their habitations, and move off into the desert, where they remain until they think that the danger is past. All ties of relationship and affection are broken through by this dread malady, for which they know no cure, and which always rages with tenfold violence among savages. The husband will abandon his wife, and even the mother her children, in the hope of checking the spread of the disorder, and the wretched sufferers are left to perish either from the disease itself or from privation.

When a Hottentot dies the funeral is conducted without any ceremony. The body is disposed in as small a compass as possible,—indeed, into the attitude that is assumed during sleep, and the limbs and head are firmly tied together. A worn-out kaross is then rolled round the body, and carefully arranged so as to conceal it entirely. The place of burial is, with certain exceptions, chosen at a distance from the kraal, and the corpse is then placed in the grave, which is never of any great depth. Earth is then thrown on the body; and if there are any stones near the spot, they are mixed with the earth, and heaped above the grave in order to defend it from the hyænas and jackals, which are sure to discover that an interment has taken place. If stones cannot be found, thorn-bushes are used for the same purpose. Generally, the grave is so shallow, and the stones are so few, that the whole process of burial is practically rendered nugatory, and before another day has dawned the hyænas and jackals have scattered the frail defences, dug up the body, and devoured it.

Should the headman of the kraal die, there are great wailings throughout the kraal. These cries are begun by the family, taken up by the inhabitants of the village, and the whole night is spent in loud howlings and lamentation. His body is usually buried in the middle of the cattle-pen, as it is a safe place so long as the cattle are in it, which are watched throughout the night, and over his remains a considerable pile of stones is raised.