On February 27, 1854, two men were lying under a tall weeping willow on the banks of the Orange River, chatting and watching the river intently.The Orange River, which was called the Groot River by the Dutch colonists and the Gallep by the native Holdendus, can be compared with the three major arteries of the African continent: the Nile River, the Niger River and the Zambezi River.Like the three major rivers, it has its own high water, rapids and waterfalls.Several well-known travelers in part of the Orange River: Thompson, Alexander, and Pocher all praised the clear water and the beautiful scenery on both sides of the river.

The Orange River borders the Duke of York Range in this section, presenting a magnificent landscape.Those rocks that cannot be climbed, huge stone piles, thick tree trunks that have been ruthlessly mineralized by the years, and inaccessible old forests that have not been dug by the axes of the colonizers, surrounded by the Galiban Mountains, form an unparalleled spectacular views.The river water here is held hostage because the riverbed is too narrow, and the riverbed can't bear it and suddenly collapses, and the water flows down from a height of 400 meters.At the upper reaches of the waterfall, there is a simple curtain of tumbling water, cut by heads protruding from a few rocks and hanging with green branches.Below the waterfall.The naked eye can only see a pool of turbulent and gloomy water vortexes, and a group of thick and humid water mist, which is streaked by the sun's seven-color beams of light, covers it.The irritating sound of rushing water came from the deep pool, and was amplified by the valley into a huge echo.

Perhaps an accident in an expedition led the two men to this land in southern Africa, but one of them was indifferent to the natural beauty in front of him.This absent-minded traveler was a Bushmen hunter, the handsome man of that brave people who lived a nomadic life in the woods: with eyes and quick movements.The name Bushmen is an anglicization of the Dutch word Bushmen, meaning "bush people", referring to those nomadic nomadic tribes in the northwest of the British Cape Colony.None of the Bushman families were settled.They lived a nomadic life between the Orange River and the Eastern Hills, robbing the farms and ruining the harvests of the outrageous colonists who drove them into the arid lands where there were only stones and no vegetation.

The Bushman was about 40 years old, tall and clearly possessed of great strength.Even when he was resting, his body was still ready to move.Clean and free in his movements, he showed a vigorous man, cast in the famous "Badguile" mold, a hero of the Canadian prairie, and yet seemed to be less than the smash-hit Courant hunter. He's calmed down a bit, which can be seen by the blush that flashes across his cheeks as his heart beats faster. The Bushman was no longer a savage like his countrymen, the ancient Yingua.As the mixed-race son of a Holden-Door mother and an English father, he has frequent dealings with foreigners, gaining more than he loses, and speaks his "father's language" fluently.His attire was half Holden Dodd, half European: red flannel shirt, tunic with large cuffs, chamois-skin shorts, and leggings of wildcat skin.From his neck hung a small bag containing a knife and a pipe, a round sheepskin cap on his head, and a thick leather belt tied around his waist.Around his bare wrists were ivory hoops of extraordinary fine workmanship, and over his shoulders hung a knee-length kruse, a pleated overcoat cut from tiger skin.A native dog was sleeping beside him.The Bushman puffed on a bone pipe in a manner that left no doubt of his impatience.

"Come, let us be quiet, Morcum," said his interlocutor. "When you are not hunting, you are the most impatient man! But do you understand, my esteemed companion, that we There is nothing we can do about the current situation, and sooner or later those we wait for will come, if not today, then tomorrow." The Bushmen's companion, a young man of twenty-five or sixteen, was in contrast to the former.His calm demeanor is revealed in every move.Nobody hesitated about his origins, he was British.His overly "bourgeois" suit of clothes showed that he was not used to traveling far.He looked like a city employee strayed into the wilderness, and one might involuntarily look to see if he had a pen stuck over one of his ears.Like a teller, a clerk, an accountant, or any other professional status in the vast clerk class.

In fact, the young man was not a traveler at all, but an eminent scholar: William Amory, astronomer stationed at the Cape Town Observatory, a long and effective institution that really served science . Being in the deserted part of southern Africa, hundreds of miles from Cape Town, the scholar may be a little uncomfortable, and he can only make himself difficult to tolerate the impatience of his companions. "Mr. Amory," the hunter answered him in fine English, "we have spent eight days at this place of engagement, at the foot of the Molcutta Falls on the Orange River, and yet for a long time any member of my family Nothing like that, staying in one place for eight days. You forget that we are nomads and our feet get hot when we stay like this."

"My friends from Morcombe," continued the astronomer, "the people we are waiting for come from England, so we can give them eight days' grace. You know, their steamboats have to cross a long ocean, along the Orange River. Going upriver will also cause delays, and in short, a thousand difficulties are bound to be encountered in such a thing. We have been reminded to make all the mental preparations for this expedition in South Africa before we come down to the waterfalls of Molkata. Waiting for my colleague, Colonel Everett of the Cambridge Observatory, here is Molkata Falls, and we are indeed waiting at the appointed place. What else do you want? My esteemed Bushmen."

Perhaps the hunter really wanted to do something else, for his hand was restlessly caressing the wrench of his rifle.This is an excellent Manley with conical bullets and good accuracy, and it will hit a wild cat or antelope from 900 yards away.It can be seen that the Bushmen have lost the reed quiver and poison arrows of their compatriots and switched to European weapons. "But, Mr. Amory, are you sure you are not mistaken at all?" said Morcombe. "Did they really agree with you to meet at the end of January at the Molkata Falls?" "Yes, my friend," replied William Amory calmly, "this is a letter from Mr. Alley, Director of the Greenwich Observatory. It will prove that I am not mistaken."

The Bushman took the letter from his companion, read it over and over as a man who barely knew the secrets of writing, and returned it to William Amory. "Please repeat what this blacked-out piece of paper says." The young scholar, with his natural patience for everything, resumed the narrative he had already repeated twenty times to his hunter friend.Late last year William Amory received a letter informing Colonel Everett and an international scientific committee of their arrival in South Africa.Amory could not have said anything about the plans of the Commission or why it had come to the southern tip of the continent, for Mr. Alley said nothing in his letter.In accordance with the instructions he had received, he was busy at a post station in the northernmost part of the Latako-Hottendo area, preparing some wagons, food, etc., in short, all the supplies necessary for a Bushjesman caravan.Then, he got acquainted with the aboriginal hunter Mokum, knowing that he had accompanied Anderson on hunting in West Africa, and also made the first expedition to Ngami Lake and Zambezi River waterfalls with the brave David Livingstone. command of the expedition.

Then it was settled, and the Bushmen, who knew the local area well, led William Amory to the designated place by the Orange River—below the Molkata Falls.The Scientific Committee should join them here.This committee was supposed to take the Augusta of the British Navy to the mouth of the Orange River near Cape Walpass on the west coast of Africa, and then up the river to Molcutta Falls.William Amory and Morcumb came with a four-wheeled carriage and set it down the valley, for the falls of Molkata made several miles of the river impassable, and if the guests would not go further to Orange after that the river and its tributaries, the wagon would take them and their luggage directly to La Taku.

The narrative was over, and this time the Bushmen took it to heart.He went straight on to the edge of the abyss into which the foaming water was roaring.Astronomers followed him.It was a jutting point overlooking the Orange River for miles below the falls. Within minutes, Morcombe and his companions were watching the river a quarter of a mile away, where it began to calm down again.Still nothing, not a single ship or canoe stirred the current.It is now three o'clock in the afternoon. At this time, January is July in the northern hemisphere. The sun shines almost vertically on this land at 29° south latitude, heating the air in the shade to 105°F (equivalent to 40.55°C ).None but the Bushmans could bear the heat without a little relief from the slight westerly wind.However, the young scholar didn't feel very uncomfortable by virtue of his calm demeanor that went down to his bones and nerves.The dense foliage reaching to the top of the deep pool shields the young from direct sunlight.Not a bird came to break the stillness of the hottest hour of the day, and not a single animal ventured out from under the shady undergrowth into the glade.In this deserted place, not a sound is heard, not even the roar of the waterfall can fully fill the tranquility. After ten minutes of observation, Morcum turned to William Amory, tapping the ground restlessly with one big foot.His piercing eyes saw nothing. "What if the person you were waiting for doesn't come?" he asked the scientist. "They will come, my brave hunters. These are men who keep their word, and they are as accurate as astronomers. Besides, what can be blamed against them? The letter says it will arrive at the end of this month, and today is the twenty-seventh No, they still have four days before reaching the Molkata Falls." "But what if they still don't show up after four days?" "Okay! My master hunter, this will be a unique opportunity to exercise our patience, because we will wait until the moment when it is confirmed that they really will not arrive." "My God!" cried the Bushman in his loud voice. "You'll be the one who's looking forward to the waters of the Garipe not rumbling into this deep pool." "No, Hunter, no," replied William Amory, with his customary calm, "reason shall govern all our actions. But what we mean by reason is that if Colonel Everett and his Our companions, exhausted by the arduous journey, perhaps lacking food and clothing, lost in the middle of nowhere and did not meet us at the meeting place, we are to blame anyway. If something unfortunate happens Well, the responsibility fell upon us again. We were to hold our positions so long as duty required. Besides, here we had nothing to want, and the wagons were waiting at the bottom of the valley to give us our night's lodging. The food is also very plentiful. The majestic nature here is worth seeing. It is an unprecedented blessing for me to spend a few days in this beautiful jungle beside this incomparable river. What do you like to do, Morcombe? The woods are plentiful with wild fowl, and your rifle is always supplying us with our daily game. Go hunting, my brave hunter, and kill a few bucks or buffaloes to while away. Take your time. Go, my brave Bushman. In the meantime, I will watch over those who come late, and at least your feet will not be in danger of rooting to the ground." The hunter felt that he should take the advice of the astronomer, and decided to kill a few hours in the nearby thorn bushes and undergrowth.Lions, dogs, and leopards would not embarrass a man who was familiar with the African jungle like him.He whistled to his hound, Tomp, the Kalahari Sayer, a dog the Barabas had previously trained as runners.The clever animal seemed to be as restless as its master, and jumped up at once, expressing its approval of the master's plan with a cheerful cry.In a short while, the hunter and the dog disappeared into the thick jungle surrounding the waterfall. Lying down alone under the weeping willow, William Amory suddenly considered his present situation before the heat-induced drowsiness set in.He was on the still little-known Orange River, far from the people.He was waiting for some Europeans, some countrymen who had left their country and ventured out.However, what was the purpose of this expedition?What scientific puzzle is it trying to solve in the deserts of South Africa?What kind of observation experiments will it conduct at 30° south latitude?This is exactly what the respected Mr. Alley, Director of the Greenwich Observatory did not explain in his letter.He, Amory, was asked for assistance as a scholar familiar with the climate of the southern hemisphere, and since some scientific work was involved, his assistance was recognized by his colleagues in the United Kingdom. The young astronomer thought of these things and asked a thousand questions which he could not answer, but his eyelids became heavy with intention, and he fell into a deep sleep.When he awoke, the sun had set, carving the picturesque outlines of the mountains to the west on a burning horizon.A pang of hunger reminded him that it was time for supper, it was already six in the evening, and it was time to return to the wagon in the valley. Just at this moment, a gunshot echoed through a patch of heath.This is a 12-15 feet high, tree-like heathland that grows down the left slope of the ridge.Almost at the same time, the Bushmen and Thomp appeared at the edge of the woods.Morcum drags a freshly killed animal. "Come here! Supply Master!" cried William Amory to him. "What have you brought for our supper?" "A duiker, Mr. William," replied the hunter, throwing an animal with its horns bent inwards into the shape of a harp to the ground. This is a species of antelope, but it is more commonly known by its name "jumping sheep," and is frequently encountered in all parts of southern Africa.It was only a ram that had been hunted. The coat on the back was cinnamon-colored, the coat covering the rump was as smooth as silk, shining brightly, and the coat on the abdomen was mixed with chestnut eye spots.Its meat is delicious and is served for dinner. Hunters and astronomers carried the duiker on their shoulders on a stick away from the falls.Half an hour later they reached their camp in the canyon, where two Bushman drivers watched over the wagon.

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