Many years ago, my Dad worked in the diamond mines in Kimberley. Often, he would come home from work, beaming and bursting to tell me the latest ‘yarn’ from a work-mate. Apparently, my Dad’s workmate was an ‘older’ gentleman; bluff faced and burly. His parents had come up from the Cape, by ox-wagon, he and his sisters,(with their families) with them. According to him, they (he) had various ‘adventures’ along the way.
I will tell you the three yarns that I remember best.
Every morning, long before dawn, the ‘trekkers’ would awaken, to brew their coffee and in-span their oxen. One particularly chilly morning, this young man; Jaap du Toit, (known by friends and family as Jaapie) crawled out from under his thick kaross, to herd the oxen together for in-spanning.
As the stars lit the way, Jaapie became aware that the oxen were extremely restless. He tried talking to them softly, to calm them down; they remained very uneasy. He eventually man-handled the oxen into place, placing their yokes over their necks and tying the ‘rieme’ (ropes made of leather).
With a crack of the whip, the wagon trundled forward ...but somehow, things were not as they should be! The team of oxen were not pulling at their usual pace ...they were jerking, and causing the wagon to lurch at times.
As dawn lit the morning sky, the travelers were astounded to see; instead of two lead oxen ....there were two young lions ....mistakenly in-spanned in the dark!
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Early one bright morning, after replacing a broken wagon wheel, Jaapie decided that it was time to hunt. The cooking pots were empty, and the biltong was growing less by the day. It was time to shoot a nice buck! He saddled his horse, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and rode off with hope in his eyes.
As the tall, dry grass rippled in the breeze, Jaapie noticed a thicket of acacia trees off to his right. Thinking that it would be a great place for game to hide, he first checked the wind direction; on finding it favorable, he slowed his horse to a walk.
As they slowly drew nearer, Jaapie noticed movement within the thicket. He dismounted; leaving his horse to graze, as he crept forward silently. There...he saw movement again, he steadied his rifle and fired...the heavy barrel jerking up with the force. The echoes from his shot rang in his ears, then....silence.
Jaapie prided himself on his marksmanship! Without hesitation, he started for the thicket, to see what he had ‘bagged’ for dinner. It never entered his mind that a predator may be lurking in the scrub. As he entered the thicket, fighting his way through a bush with long white thorns, there was sudden movement to his left, and a cloud of dust arose. Out of the red dust cloud, emerged a large grey shape...frighteningly large! Jaapie stood his ground, as a rhinoceros bull charged him. He waited, with bated breath, till the rhino was almost upon him, and then quickly slipped behind the trunk of an ancient acacia tree.
According to Jaapie, that rhino, being so near-sighted, had charged with such force that his horn went right through the trunk of the tree. Jaapie then whipped a large nut (still from fixing the wagon wheel) out of his pocket; screwed it onto the rhino’s horn, then went around and kicked the rhino’s backside!
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Late one afternoon, the family came to a river that had to be crossed. On deciding to cross the river and make camp for the night, on the other side; they sent out their ‘tame bushmen’ to look for a likely spot to cross. The Bushmen returned, along with some other native people. The natives had shown where the river ran shallow; a beautiful drift, making an excellent place to ford the river, and a great space to camp on the other side.
There was a ‘fly in the ointment’ though: time had passed, and the sun was tipping the horizon. The du Toit family were eager to reach the other side....but the natives were not! They claimed that the drift was haunted! They wanted to make camp where they were, and cross in the morning light.
The du Toit’s decided that they would not take any truck from the natives.....they would ford the river, before camp, with or without extra help! They were not about to listen to any superstitious mumbo jumbo from the locals.
Swiftly, the women and small children were crossed, along with cooking utensils, so that the fire could be lit and supper started. The men took off their ‘veld-skoene’, (home -made shoes) rolled up their pants, and preceded the patient oxen into the water.
As the wagon got to the middle of this murky river, there was a horrendous “CRACK”, and the wagon lurched violently to one side. One of the great wheels had slipped on the rocky bottom, and was now trapped between two ledges! The men made haste to lighten the load on the wagon, but dusk had crept up, like a thief in the night.
The men pushed; pulled and pried, but the wagon stayed stuck. Suddenly, there was a strange noise, and the straining oxen fell to their knees on the steep bank. The chain of the ‘disselboom’ (thick pole that runs between the two rows of oxen) had broken.....and there sat the wagon, in the middle of the river; like an old lady with wet ‘brooks’!
The du Toit men flopped onto the river bank, dripping sweat and mud; they knew they were beaten...for that night anyway, as the link to the large chain, was nowhere to be seen. They were tired and hungry: it was already pitch dark. No ‘soft’ beds for the women and children that night.
Supper was eaten, bellies were full, as they dawdled over their coffee. As they sat around their campfire with the big black pot still simmering water, a loud “PLINK” was heard by all. They all leaned forward, to see what it was. There, in the pot of water, lay the missing link (literally) to the chain. The force exacted on the disselboom chain, was so great, that it shot the link so high, that it only came down after their meal!
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My Dad and I had many a chuckle over these stories! My Dad would state, in amazement “Do you know, I swear, he actually believes his own stories?”
