144 MEMORIES OF MY LIFE 



be of a much higher order and to be feared. Probably 

 that new view of their value helped us considerably. 

 We were quite at the mercy of Nangoro ; our cattle 

 grew thinner daily on the very scant pasturage to 

 which they were restricted, and Nangoro would not 

 give me permission to go farther. It was as much 

 as our oxen could do to take us back at all, and 

 having at length received permission, or orders (I 

 know not which), to return, I did so with mixed 

 feelings regret at having to turn back, relief at 

 getting away safely. The Ovampo were suspicious 

 of us, but seemed particularly happy and social among 

 themselves, and to be a people well worthy of friendly 

 study. But the spirit of what is elsewhere known 

 as " taboo " reigned everywhere, and simple inquiries 

 were too frequently met with the rejoinder of " You 

 must not ask." I had very good interpreters between 

 the Damara and Ovampo languages. 



My fears of ill-usage were shown not to be fanci- 

 ful, by the fact that a party who followed me some 

 years later were attacked as they departed, and had 

 to fire in self-defence. According to one of many 

 rumours, a stray bullet killed Nangoro himself, at 

 a considerable distance, while he was sitting within 

 his own stockade. The party got safely away, but 

 were in great danger. 



The return journey to the wagons was indeed 

 difficult. One bitterly cold encampment in a hollow 

 on the bleak plain, where we were comparatively safe 

 from a night attack, seriously tried the constitution 

 of some of my best ride-oxen, who never afterwards 

 became as serviceable as they were before. The 

 wagon was however mended, all had gone well 



