The Sheltering Desert
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
THE SHELTERING DESERT by HENNO MARTIN THOMAS NELSON & SONS EDINBURGH NEW YORK TORONTO FIRST PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA IN 1958 Copyright by UmonDeutuhe VerJagfgeseUschafl This boot is cofrrizht. Wo part of if _^ ., m^permisston tfl a*M*g from the fr&Ks)^ ^ ^ r^^wer who wtdus to pate briefpassages in comectum with a renew written for vtdutwn m a magajyne or newspaper or a radio broadcast. GREAT BRITAIN To HERMANN AND OTTO Translatedfrom the German BY EDWARD FITZGERALD CONTENTS END OF THE ROAD ....... n FLIGHT ......... 12 THE FIRST HUNT ....... 17 CANYON THE ........ 19 OUR FIRST HOUSE ..... 23 HUNGER ...... ... 26 THE BULLFIGHT ....... 28 THE BIG FEAST ....... 32 BEES MAKE HONEY ....... 36 CARP POND AND GARDEN ...... 40 LABOUR AND CONTEMPLATION ..... 43 GOOD TIMES ........ 47 GRUEL AND BEAUTIFUL ...... 51 THE EAST WIND ....... 55 THE FISH POACHER ....... 58 THE GRAMADULLAS ....... 65 THE DAILY ROUND IN THE DESERT .... 72 DESERT SOURCE ....... 76 HARD WORK ........ 88 FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND ...... 91 SUMMER .... ..... 95 THE FIRST RAIN ....... 101 THE BUSHMEN'S WATER-HOLE ..... 104 EVENINGS AT HOME ....... no CHRISTMAS ........ 116 BEES AND GEM^OK ....... 122 7 Page DENTAL TREATMENT AND SUMMER HOLIDAYS . 125 MAN'S EVOLUTION .134 A NIGHT MARCH AND rrs CONSEQUENCES . 142 HOUSEBUILDING 147 START OF A DRY YEAR 151 SPIDERS, LIZARDS AND SNAKES 154 THE BEGINNING OF WINTER ...... 160 HIERARCHY OF THE WILDERNESS .... 164 FATS GROW SCARCE ....... iyi MAN'S PERIL 176 THE WATER-TANK 180 FUGHT . 183 HUNGER AGAIN SECOND CHRISTMAS DESERT RAIN Ig5 FANTASY AND DREAM, IMAGINATION .... 198 Visrr TO PARADISE 203 HYAENAS, FOOTPRINTS AND MAGIC .... 206 TOUR IN THE NAMIB ....... 209 END OF A BABOON 2I ^ TRAPPING AND QUAIL BIRD-CATCHING SPIDERS . 221 DISCUSSION AT A SICK-BED HUNTING TRIP EPILOGUE ILLUSTRATIONS Wanderer in the desert .... facing page 16 The uplands drop down into the Namib. Candelabra aloes and cactus euphorbia in the foreground. The plain between is about twenty miles wide . 17 In the dry years even springbok must go down to the water-holes in the gorges ..... 32 Springbok doe at a bitter source 33 In the depths of the canyon 48 Gemsbok and jackal at a water-hole .... 49 Our second home, with zebra skulls hanging from the eaves 64 The uplands end in a maze of wild gorges ... 65 Gemsbok chewing the cud in the shade of an ana tree . 80 Zebra in a hot desert gorge ..... 81 Ballet in the Namib 96 Marabu and a dead zebra 97 Promise of rain over the mountains . .112 Approaching storm . , . .113 After the rain. Lily blossoming in the sand of a dried-out water-course ........ 128 The joy of life. Springbok dancing over the silky grass 128-129 Zebra and gemsbok going out into the plains . 128-129 Fossilised roots in the face of Carp Cliff . .129 Extremes of adaptation: A swift klipspringer able to follow the rain wherever it falls and a squat moringa tree, able to store water for the dry years . 144-145 Evening shadows gathering in the gramadulla gorges. In the foreground cactus euphorbia protected from hungry and thirsty animals by prickles and poisonous sap . 160 9 Debris of rock slabs in a gramadulla gorge . facing page 161 Our home at Baboons' Den, showing the author and Otto 176 Two gemsbok turn towards us on hearing the dick of the shutter, but provided we keep still they cannot make us out ......... 177 Springbok kid lying in the shade of a bush . .192 Gemsbok calf. It has horns at birth .... 193 After a good rainy season water flows through the canyon for perhaps a month ...... 208 Warran lizard, about three feet long . 208209 Zebra fill a barren gorge with life . 208-209 Springbok sampling the various degrees of saltiness and bitterness at the water-holes ..... 209 Rainy day in the desert The west wind has torn the clouds to shreds the ; evening shadows are creeping out of the gorges, and behind the Rotstock shines the marble mountain of Tinkaneib 224 The pattern left by the wind in the desert sand . 225 10 END OF THE ROAD iron of Windhoek Prison fell E I <HE heavy gates to behind us I with a clang. I turned round for a moment. Above the JL inner arch of the gates was an inscription, a little faded " " but still legible: Alles zur Besserung! Those reassuring words had obviously been left over from the days of German rule. So we were to be improved, reformed, rehabilitated as its inmates! In the ordinary way I should have laughed, but we didn't feel much like laughing. The formalities were soon settled. Our names: Hermann Korn and Henno Martin. Profession: geologists. Then our belts and bootlaces were taken away. After that the cell doors closed behind us. We were separated now and my sick comrade lay in the next cell. I didn't feel too good myself; we had been on the move all day in order to reach our destination before nightfall. The feeble light of a lamp in the prison yard fell through the bars of my cell window. I could not sleep. I lay on my back and stared into the semi-darkness. How narrow and confined this small space was after the wide horizons and the high heavens of the desert in which we had lived fbr.so long! And the experiences that lay behind us! We had tried to escape from a world convulsed by war, and up to a point we had succeeded. For two and a half years we had made ourselves independent ofhuman society, disappearing into the desert, living the life of primitive hunters, governed only by the harsh laws of the wilderness and our own limitations. Lying there I lived it all over again. Many pictures rose in my mind: the beauty of nature, the animals of the wilds, the pangs of hunger and thirst, the occasional physical exhaustion, the silent nights and the glistening stars. That part of our lives was all over now: what came next? ii Well, for one thing we shouldn't have to stalk our breakfast in the morning; it would be brought to us in our cells, ample proof that human society had got hold of us again. I closed my eyes and thought of the past. FLIGHT was the first year of the Second World War. The German armies had occupied Holland and were already breaking ITthrough the first defences of the Maginot Line. Windhoek was in a swirl of war propaganda, and enthusiasm, fear and anxiety coloured every discussion. Even a scientist could hardly hope to keep his head in that hysterical atmosphere. But my friend Hermann Korn and I had already decided that this was not our war. We had seen it coming for a long time, and in fact that was the reason why we had left Europe in the first place. We wanted no hand or part in the mass suicide of civilized peoples. But now it looked as though the war was about to catch up with us; more and more Germans were disappearing behind the barbed wire of internment camps. Any day tie same fate could overtake us. It was a dread thought for two men used, in their scientific work, to the desert expanses and the freedom of the end- less rolling plains, and we were determined to maintain our personal neutrality and to defend our independence to the best of our ability. One evening, sitting on the stone steps of our house, we reviewed the situation and wondered if there was any- thing we could do about it And then suddenly we remembered what we had once said half in joke: "If war comes we'll spend it in the desert!" The idea fascinated us. With suppressed excitement we began to discuss the practical possibilities, weighing up the pros and cons. By the time the light of the zodiac stood over the western hills the idea had become a decision: we would go into the desert and live there in complete isolation until the war was over. One living thing we did propose to take with us, and that was our There was no need to ask dog. him what he thought about it; 112 he was always ready to come, and whenever he saw signs of pack- ing he would wag his tail joyfully. His name was Otto. We had called him that because it's a name that looks the same fore and aft, and so did Otto when he was a puppy the same shape too! This was no longer the case, but he was still Otto. Our preparations took four days, and then we started on our journey with our heavily loaded lorry. Our objective was the dry canyon of the Kuiseb river, a place not easily accessible, though by South-West African standards it wasn't far: about 130 miles from Windhoek. The easiest way to get there would have been to take the pad (as they call any sort of passable track) running " from the uplands down along the Kuiseb valley into the Namib ", which is a Hottentot word for desert and is the name used for the area between the uplands and the Atlantic. But for us that was just the way to avoid. The inhabitants of the isolated farms on lie way would certainly spot our lorry and then the police would find out which way we had gone the moment they cared to inquire. We therefore decided to make a wide detour over Okahandya and Karibib. Incidentally, in notifying the authori- ties we were leaving town we had given Karibib as our desti- nation.