302 



EXCURSION INTO THE INTERIOR. 



[1828. 



this unfrequented part of Africa, as well as on the many unexplored 

 islands which I visited in my last voyage in the North and South Pacific 

 Oceans. 



In returning from the interior towards the seacoast, I paid some 

 attention to the nature and character of the soil, which in many instances 

 I found to be a loam of sandy clay, often from ten to fourteen inches 

 in depth, mixed with particles of ochre, — a sort of earth consisting of 

 alumina and red oxide of iron. Such a soil, hardened by an African 

 climate to the consistency of sun-baked bricks, would seem to promise 

 but a sorry vegetation. But the germs of vegetable life are concealed 

 and preserved under the surface of this almost impenetrable crust 

 during those months in which the rains and dews of heaven are with- 

 held from this region of the earth. 



In the month of June, when the rains begin to fall, and soften this 

 hard layer of loam, the fibres of the torpid plants receive the grateful 

 moisture, and the resuscitated germs push aside the now yielding clay, 

 and shoot forth in a thousand tender forms of vegetable life and beauty. 

 In a few days the whole steril waste is clothed in a soft and delicate 

 robe of green, which soon becomes enamelled with blossoms of every 

 hue, and of the most delightful fragrance. Millions of these delicate 

 flowers ornament the hills and spangle the valleys, while the whole 

 atmosphere is perfumed with paradisiacal odours. " The desert now 

 blossoms as the rose," and " the parched heath becomes a garden of 

 flowers." The Hottentots now descend from the mountains, and ad- 

 vance into the plains nearer the seacoast, where they find an abundance 

 of sustenance for their flocks and herds. Antelopes, ostriches, and 

 other animals also descend into the valleys, which greatly increases 

 the beauty of the scene. 



But, alas ! when nature thus suddenly plays the prodigal, she soon 

 exhausts her means, and becomes a niggard again. This beautiful 

 scene is soon stripped of its glory. In the month of September or 

 October the flowers fade, and the leaves fall to the earth ; and the 

 incipient germs of future fertility, the property of another year, are 

 safely locked up in their prison of clay, from whence they will be 

 again called forth by the benign influence of a periodical rain. At 

 this dry season, when the grass is withered, the succulent plants alone 

 furnish food for the herds and flocks, both wild and tame. The 

 streams and rivulets soon dry up, but the springs in the valleys 

 never cease to flow ; and they supply the different kinds of animals 

 with sufficient water to allay their thirst. But when vegetable life 

 refuses to act in the valleys, they return to the mountains, with ap- 

 parent reluctance ; and some of them will remain in the valleys a long 

 time, feeding upon succulent plants, which afford them both food 

 and drink. 



In crossing the sandy deserts, which extend from the seacoast about 

 forty miles inland, and about eight hundred miles north-west and south- 

 east, we find that this parched and arid plain is intersected, in various 

 directions, by the vacant beds of a number of small streams ; which, 

 though mostly dried up, can be easily traced and clearly distinguished 

 by the dark green mimosas which grow along their banks, and which 



