2002. The rock art of Bongani Mountain Lodge and its environs, Mpumalanga Province: an introduction to problems of southern African rock art regions moreSouth African Archaeological Bulletin 57: 15-30. |
26 views |
15South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175) ): 15–30, 2002
15
THE ROCK ART OF BONGANI MOUNTAIN LODGE AND ITS ENVIRONS, MPUMALANGA PROVINCE, SOUTH AFRICA: AN INTRODUCTION TO PROBLEMS OF SOUTHERN AFRICAN ROCK-ART REGIONS
JAMIE HAMPSON1, WILLIAM CHALLIS1, GEOFFREY BLUNDELL12 & CONRAAD DE ROSNER3
Rock Art Research Institute, Department of Archaeology, University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg, South Africa 2050; 2Department of the Arts of Africa, Oceania and the Americas, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1000 Fifth Avenue, New York, USA; 3Bongani Mountain Lodge, PO Box 41, Kaapmuiden, 1295 South Africa. Email for correspondence: jamiehampson@yahoo.com (Received July 2001. Accepted November 2001.)
1
ABSTRACT
Little is known about the rock art of regions outside the more famous ones such as the Drakensberg and Cederberg. Mpumalanga Province in eastern South Africa is a case in point. While preliminary work has been undertaken in the southern Kruger National Park, very little of this material has been published. Recently, over 100 sites in and around Bongani Mountain Lodge Game Reserve—on the southern border of the Kruger National Park—have been discovered. The images in these sites are both similar to and different from those from other parts of southern Africa. In particular, there are images discovered in the Bongani Reserve that were previously thought to occur only in restricted locales in southern Africa. This paper introduces the rock art of this area and offers a provisional framework for considering the regional distribution of motifs.
essay a full study of the notion of rock-art regions. Rather, we present a tentative framework for considering some of the conceptual relations that may exist between rock-art regions. We expect this framework to be developed in the light of further research.
Bongani Mountain Lodge Game Reserve
Although rock-art images in the adjacent Kruger National Park were first recorded in the 1980s, little is known about sites i n the immediate environs of the Bongani Reserve or, for that matter, in Mpumalanga Province as a whole. In recent years, however, an unexpected wealth of rock-art sites has been documented in the Bongani Reserve, which is situated in the Krokodilspoortberge. These form part of the foothills of the Malelane Mountains, which, in turn, lie to the west of the Lebombo range that forms the border with Mozambique (see Fig. 1). The area immediately to the southwest of the Kruger National Park comprises the Mthethomusha Game Reserve, within which the Bongani Reserve is situated, and several thousand square kilometres of state land. The latter is occupied by siSwati (Swazi)- and xiTsonga (Tsonga)-speaking people, most of whom originally lived in what is now the southern area of the Kruger National Park (Van Riet et al. 1997). The area receives approximately 700 mm rainfall on average annually and the tributaries of the Makhomane, Luphisi and Nsikazi rivers provide perennial water. The sandy loam soils between the distinctive granite outcrops support a plant life that is predominantly sour lowveld bushveld or Malelane mountain bushveld. Principal trees are kiaat (Pterocarpus angolensis), corky-bark acacia (Acacia davyi), broad-leaved erythrina (Erythrina latissima), rock figs (Ficus glumosa), milkwood (Mimusops zeyheri), marula (Sclerocarya birrea), scented thorn (Acacia nilotica), spiny monkey orange (Strychnos spinosa) and lowveld chestnut (Sterculia murex) (Low & Rebelo 1996). The area would certainly have provided a rich habitat for hunter-gatherers. There is a need for excavation at hunter-gatherer rock-art sites in the Bongani Reserve and particularly those adjacent to the reserve. Many have already been seriously damaged by illegal attempts to discover the burial places of the legendary gold that Paul Kruger is said to have buried during his flight at the end of the Anglo-Boer War. It is not uncommon to find sites where the entire stratigraphy has been completely destroyed.
Introduction
The rock art in some comparatively restricted parts of southern Africa has been intensively studied for many years (e.g. Pager 1971; Vinnicombe 1976; Lewis-Williams 1981; Maggs 1967; Halkett 1987; Hollmann 1993; Yates et al. 1990). As a result, what is now known about these regions tends to inform overall concepts of rock-art regions in the subcontinent; contrasts between the art of the Cederberg and the Drakensberg, for example, are frequently noted. Less studied areas remain comparative terrae incognitae; their potential impact on broader concepts of regions and what those regions may signify cannot yet be assessed. When researchers attempt to fit the art of little known areas into generally accepted, broadly-defined southern African rock-art regions, questions are inevitably raised about what exactly constitutes a rock art region and how such regions should be defined. A fundamental question is whether regions should be defined by stylistic criteria or by the presence and absence of motifs, that is, by repeated and definable elements of content. One little-studied area centres on the Bongani Mountain Lodge Game Reserve in Mpumalanga Province. Our work there has encouraged us to formulate some of the implicit assumptions that govern notions of rock-art regionalism. We do not claim to have solved the problems that we believe is being raised b y our work and that of other researchers elsewhere; nor do we
16
South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175): 15–30, 2002
Fortunately, the rock art does not seem to have suffered the same fate but the lack of knowledge of rock-art sites from this area has prohibited any long-term monitoring. Van Riet Lowe’s (1952) catalogue of rock-art sites in South Africa lists only 1 0 in the neighbouring Barberton and Nelspruit districts (to the south and west of the Bongani Reserve) and a mere four in the Kruger National Park. More recently, Michael English of the National Parks Board located over 110 sites within the park boundaries but published few of his finds (but, see English 1990). Following on this work, Israel Nemaheni, during his term as a cultural officer in the Kruger National Park, documented sites in the southern areas of the park. Unsurprisingly, the features of the Kruger National Park art are similar to those found in the neighbouring Bongani Reserve. One of us (CdR) has so far located and plotted over 100 sites i n the reserve and its immediate environs. Together, we have thoroughly documented 36 of these by photography and tracing. Many of the painted images are extremely faded, despite the facts that granite is comparatively resistant to weathering and that annual rainfall is relatively low. Although work in the area is continuing and new finds are being made weekly, the large number of located sites shows that this part of southern Africa deserves to be as well known as the more intensively studied regions. The sites we have studied constitute a significant representative sample from which to make preliminary and
general observations about rock art in the area. First, it appears that all the images in the 36 sites for which data have been processed belong to the hunter-gatherer painted tradition although there are a few recorded instances of open sites with agriculturist engravings in the broader region (Maggs 1995). In other rock-shelter sites that have not yet been documented there are a few finger paintings and geometric designs in thick red (and sometimes white) pigment, which probably belong to the herder art tradition (e.g., Smith & Ouzman in press.). We do not consider either of these rock-art traditions here but they are intelligible in terms different to those employed for understanding San art. The scarcity of such images in the Bongani Reserve may be thought surprising i n the light of the relative proximity of the art to that in the Limpopo-Shashe Confluence Area (LSCA) and the central Limpopo basin as a whole, where herder art is common (see below). Yet, it is the hunter-gatherer tradition that is the most extensive and, surprisingly, shows unexpected parallels with more distant, seemingly unrelated, regions. An in-depth comparative study with these other regions must, however, be approached with caution because of the poor, almost non-existent, chronological resolution of the Bongani Reserve rock art. Given that the art is on granite, the poor state of preservation, coupled with the absence of historical images, such as sheep,
Fig. 1. Map of the research area. Sites are located in and around the game reserve.
17South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175) ): 15–30, 2002
17
cattle, pastoralists and Europeans, suggests that the images are relatively old. We fear that the sort of chronological connection made between the art and deposit by archaeologists in the Matopos in Zimbabwe (Walker 1995, 1996), the Eastern Cape Province (Hall 1994) and Limpopo Province (Hall & Smith 2000) may not be possible in the Bongani Reserve. The widescale destruction of the sequence in the Bongani Reserve constitutes an archaeological disaster. Urgent excavation of the few sites still intact is required if this area is not to become a permanent lacuna in our understanding and if the art and archaeology of in the Bongani Reserve are to be fitted into their proper place in the regional puzzle of southern Africa’s past.
Regional studies
Regionality has been a tacit theme for many decades in rock art research but we feel that it requires closer scrutiny. Burkitt (1928) was the first trained archaeologist to outline rock-art regions in southern Africa. His work—though valuable and groundbreaking—was based on a rather hurried tour of archaeological sites throughout the subcontinent undertaken in 1927. As a result of this swift, and necessarily superficial, approach and of his archaeological background in lithic typology (Schrire et al. 1986), he concentrated more on stylistic impressions than on recurring motifs. By motif we mean “a distinctive feature or element of a design or composition; a particular type of subject”, as defined in the Shorter Oxford Dictionary. Because of his emphasis on style rather than content, Burkitt used phrases such as “naturalistic” and “vigorous” to describe the images of particular regions (Burkitt 1928). He writes of “major geographical art groups”, each with a “limited vogue i n time but a wide distribution in space” (Burkitt 1928). His general stylistic impressions were also, in many ways, the result of the filtering of the art through the perspective of a Western mind and Western concepts of art.
delineated by the distribution of the proportion of eland t o other antelope species will cross-cut regions based on technique (engraved or painted images) or style (“static” or “lively”, for example, in Rudner & Rudner 1970). The selection of criteria should depend on the questions being explicitly asked and not on ill-formulated a priori notions of what a region may be. It is thus unwise to combine style and content in the delineation of regions; they are two different things. Moreover, there are distinct cultural traditions evident i n southern Africa rock art: in addition to the San tradition, there are images made by Bantu-speaking agriculturalists and b y Khoekhoen herders. More recently, Khoe-speaking huntergatherer rock art has also been identified (Eastwood et al. i n press). The geographical distribution of these traditions was determined by historical and ecological factors.
Other researchers followed Burkitt’s example. Some adopted not only his overall geographical framework but also his commitment to style as the principal criterion for regional comparisons (Van Riet Lowe 1952; Willcox 1963; Malan 1965). Others, such as the Rudners, followed Burkitt’s overall scheme in a general way but preferred to speak of different schools of rock art, distinguishing between the Formal School of the Western Cape Province and the Dynamic School of the Drakensberg (Rudner & Rudner 1970). Conducting their work at a time when quantitative studies were being pursued in various parts of southern Africa (e.g., Maggs 1967; Vinnicombe 1967, 1976; Lewis-Williams 1972, 1974; Pager 1971), the Rudners appended a table of quantified motifs and features of style for some areas within their regional schools (Rudner & Rudner 1970). The motifs they listed did not, however, constitute criteria for the definition and geographical delineation of schools; their numerical tables were to illustrate previously conceived regions. Their criteria for both motifs and stylistic elements derived from Vinnicombe (1967). All regions are constructs. The delineation of regions is posited on the selection of criteria: change the criteria and the boundaries of the regions will change. Stylistic regions will therefore be different from motif regions. For instance, regions
Fig. 2. Roan antelope. Scale here, and elsewhere (unless indicated) in 10 mm units. Colour here, and elsewhere (unless indicated) is red. All these informing and cross-cutting factors—style, content (motifs), technique, cultural tradition and changes through time—need to be sorted out before the delineation of rock-art regions can proceed. We must, however, stress that such delineations need not necessarily be entirely rigid. As one looks either side of a pre-conceived boundary line one should not expect to see the sudden disappearance of certain motifs; rather, one finds that specific images become less and less common. Nevertheless, it is quite clear that there are regions of distinctive rock art; the art of the Matopos and that of the Drakensberg are visibly different. What is at issue, is to what degree these different regions of art reflect different cosmologies or belief-systems. Up until the time of the Rudners’ research a major obstacle was that the (different kinds of) meanings of specific motifs were unknown. One could not therefore form any idea of the significance of the presence or absence of a motif. Furthermore, since the significance of the regional motifs being compared was not
18
South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175): 15–30, 2002
known, so was the meaning of the comparison. If researchers were to define regions in terms of motifs rather than styles, they could not, in the end, say what the regions meant. In the 1960s these difficulties appeared insurmountable. Then, as a result of ethnographic studies in the 1970s and their application to the rock art of southern Africa (e.g., Vinnicombe 1976; Lewis-Williams 1981) the circumstances of research began t o change; researchers are now in a position to investigate the nature of rock-art regions from a much more informed perspective. Regions no longer need be defined in terms of subjectively defined styles or schools; no suitable stylistic criteria t o delineate regions have been suggested since the 1970s in any case. We quite consciously exclude style from our criteria. We consider the presence or absence of motifs, for many of which the significance is now known. The significance of a region tends to become clearer if intelligible (or partially intelligible) features are present in that particular region. Advances in the understanding of what certain motifs may have meant to their makers and original viewers introduces a new era in notions of rock-art regions (cf. Yates et al. 1990).
Our framework and its constituent categories should be seen as a heuristic device for Africa south of the Zambezi and as a contribution towards debate, not as a rigid, immutable straightjacket. It seems as though researchers inevitably approach new regions with motifs and nuances from other, often better known, regions already in mind. We believe that the categories we propose should be overt and not covert and dependent on cognitive rather than stylistic criteria. We are aware of methodological problems when employing quantitative methods for research. Such methods by themselves cannot, of course, tell us anything about the meaning of the art but may influence our interpretations. Since it is physically impossible to document all the images in a region one must take some kind of sample. Depending on whether the sample i s entirely numerical or according to size or type of site, for example, percentages indicating occurrences of a particular motif in relation to the total number of motifs in the sample will vary. Bearing this in mind, our framework comprises three quantitative categories that are tacitly employed by many researchers. Percentiles can be applied to these categories if necessary, though we have not attempted to do so. We anticipate that both the framework and the categories will be modified in the light of further research. The three categories are: 1. Widely distributed southern African motifs, 2. Regional motifs and 3. Extremely rare, idiosyncratic or unique motifs, each subdivided into Intelligible and Unintelligible. The categories are defined as follows: 1. Widely distributed southern African motifs Several rock art motifs are found throughout South Africa (albeit in various forms). Some of these motifs are intelligible, or partially intelligible and are therefore placed into sub-category 1A. By this we mean that we know at least some of the specific areas of San belief and cosmology to which they refer. Their presence thus provides insights into the cognitive production of the art. Figures comprising both human and animal attributes (therianthropes) are examples of this category of motifs (Vinnicombe 1976; LewisWilliams 1981). Other motifs are equally widespread but we categorize them as unintelligible because researchers do not yet know their significance (1B). Files of walking or running human figures may fall into this category, though some of the figures within these files have intelligible features (cf. Smuts 1999). 2. Regional motifs Some motifs seem to be restricted to one region or several specific regions and are absent from, or extremely rare in, other regions. Sometimes such features are at least partly intelligible (2A). The significance of a region tends to become clearer if intelligible (or partially intelligible) features are present i n that particular region. ‘Formlings’, for example, are widespread in Zimbabwe and in parts of northern South Africa. Elsewhere they are uncommon or absent; they do not, for example, feature in the Cederberg rock art. There has been much debate about the significance of formlings (see below) but today ethnographic evidence is beginning to unravel their association with San beliefs about supernatural potency (Garlake 1990, 1995; Mguni in prep.)
Fig. 3. File of human figures. Note the lines emanating from the top of the heads.
Motifs
To begin to assess the significance of motifs in the rock art of the Bongani Reserve, we devised a framework of motif categories. When setting out to discuss the subject of regionality it i s tempting—but logically impossible—to describe the images i n a particular region (or regions) first and then create categories. In fact, categories must be theoretically established; they cannot be inferred from data. In this way, it is impossible t o describe the rock art of the Bongani Reserve without a priori categories. Since all regions are constructs and dependent o n the criteria selected, one has to choose criteria according to the type of region one wishes to create. All categories are created for a purpose; without purpose, categorization is valueless.
19South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175) ): 15–30, 2002
19
In the Bongani Reserve and its environs we have documented the following motifs:
• Widely distributed southern African motifs: A. Intelligible (or partially intelligible): emphasis on ‘red meat’ antelope. B. Unintelligible: files of human figures. 2 Regional motifs: A. Intelligible (or partially intelligible): human figures holding arrows, formlings, the Linton (supine) posture, rain-animals and ‘palettes’. B. Unintelligible: infibulation of the penis, animal skin aprons and T-shaped equipment. 3 Extremely rare, idiosyncratic or unique motifs: A. Intelligible (or partially intelligible): none B. Unintelligible: hares/rabbits, ‘curved-trails’ and shoulder ‘spines’.
Fig. 4. Human figures holding arrows. Note the white dots surrounding the head of the central figure. See Fig. 5. By contrast, there are motifs that are characteristic of a region but which remain enigmatic (2B). For example, it has recently been argued that the Y-shapes found in the central Limpopo basin and in the Tsodilo Hills in Botswana represent men’s loincloths (Blundell & Eastwood 2001; Eastwood et al. i n press) but to date researchers are not aware of the significance of such a motif. Another example is infibulation of the penis (see below). We allow that similar motifs in different regions do not necessarily mean the same thing; some motifs are less intelligible than others. 3. Extremely rare, idiosyncratic or unique motifs Some motifs are so rare that they cannot be said to characterize any region. Some of these are understandable in the light of San beliefs (3A); others are opaque and hence must be categorized as unintelligible (3B). The Free State Province rock painting of crabs—termed “idiosyncratic” by Thomas Dowson—can be understood in terms of San beliefs about underwater experience and are hence a variation on the theme more usually represented by images of fish (Dowson 1988). They are placed in category 3A. Some images in the Bongani Reserve cannot be understood at present and must therefore be placed in category 3B. In some cases we find several depictions of an extremely rare motif but in an extremely localized area; we do not consider such motifs to be regional, or a candidate for category 2. We suggest that the heuristic framework that we have outlined facilitates comparison of motifs that are characteristic of, or absent from, specific regions. Our present placing of certain Bongani Reserve (and other) motifs in these categories must be seen as provisional. As research progresses, certain regional motifs (2A and 2B) may turn out to be more widespread—and less regional—than originally thought. Noting the methodological problems connected with quantitative studies outlined above, such motifs should then be promoted to category 1A or 1B. Similarly, as more is learned about the significance of a motif it may be moved from an unintelligible subcategory to an intelligible one.
Fig. 5. Figure from the Harrismith District, KwaZulu-Natal Province (traced by Dowson). Note the light red dots surrounding the red figure. It is important to note that some of the intelligible motifs are more intelligible than others. Furthermore, there are many faded and indeterminable images in the Bongani Reserve that do not feature in our account. Although we hope to identify these in the future, it should also be noted that categorization i s unavoidably subjective (cf. Skotnes 1996). We discuss each category in turn.
20
South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175): 15–30, 2002
Category 1A: Widely distributed intelligible motifs
Although the diversity of animal species depicted in the Malelane mountains is far greater than in, say, the Drakensberg (Vinnicombe 1976; Lewis-Williams 1981), depictions of antelope, as in most regions of southern Africa, are numerically dominant over those of other animals: roan and sable, eland, kudu and reedbuck (or rhebuck—see below), among others, can be identified.
group de≠xe) comprise several antelope: kudu, eland, gemsbok, springbok, hartebeest, tsessebe, as well as giraffe. ‘White meat’ is closely associated with carnivores and includes lion, leopard and leguaan (the monitor lizard); it is generally avoided. ‘Black meat’ animals include warthog, bat-eared fox and wildebeest, the only large antelope that does not fall into the ‘red meat’ category (Biesele 1975). In another list, the roan antelope is included as a ‘great meat’ animal (Biesele 1993); for various reasons, it is difficult to ascertain if this list is synonymous with that of the ‘red meat’ animals (Challis et al. in prep.). Although little can be said about the significance of any antelope species other than the eland (Vinnicombe 1976; Lewis-Williams 1981; Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989), we can note the painted emphasis on species in the ‘red/great meat’ category. One of the most important associations of ‘red meat’ animals is the quantity of n/om (supernatural potency) that they are said to possess. Although animals such as snakes (‘white meat’) also possess n/om (Biesele 1978; Katz 1982), it is the ‘red meat’ species that are especially invoked in the San healing dance. Hence the depictions of roan and sable must, provisionally, fall into the nationwide intelligible category (1A): it is not so much the species that is significant as the fact that the emphasized antelope is a large and/or ‘red meat’ animal. In the Bongani Reserve one depiction of a roan antelope, with its distinctive horns, is painted in red (Fig. 2). Whilst there are many examples of roan in Zimbabwe (Garlake 1987) and elsewhere to the north of the Bongani Reserve, researchers know of few in the Drakensberg (Lewis-Williams pers. comm.) or in the Western Cape Province (Hollmann pers. comm.). Often roanand sable-like animals are identified as roan/sable (Garlake 1987), being similar, large antelope. The sable, however, has distinctive, longer horns, almost parallel to each other and strongly ridged (Smithers 1983). Both the roan and the sable have manes but the sable has a bushier tail, relatively shorter, chestnut-coloured ears and a continuous, longer stripe from eyes to nose. The roan is generally a reddish fawn colour, the sable glossy black (Smithers 1983). Despite such detailed description, it is not always easy to be sure which species i s depicted; formal analysis, though useful, has its limitations (cf. Smith 1998). The colours and proportions used by the artists do not necessarily conform to those of the actual species. Sable do not feature in Biesele’s lists but then they are absent from the region in which she conducted her research. In areas where sable do occur (such as the Okavango swamps in Botswana), it i s extremely likely to feature in a local ‘red/great meat’ list since it is a large antelope species similar to the roan (Biesele pers. comm.). For the reasons outlined above it is placed in category 1A. In the Drakensberg, where annual rainfall is relatively high, i t is possible that the rhebuck takes the place of the springbok (prominent in ethnographic records from the semi-arid central Cape as well as the Kalahari) in Biesele’s ‘red meat’ list. Both are small antelope that feature prominently in San beliefs (Orpen 1874; Lewis-Williams 1980; Lenssen-Erz 1994) and i n the art itself. Interestingly, in the Drakensberg the rhebuck i s the second most frequently painted species. A striking panel in the Bongani Reserve features four reedbuck (or possibly rhebuck) of varying size, all painted in red. These
Fig. 6. ‘Formlings’. Throughout southern Africa, artists in different regions seem t o have numerically emphasized particular animals (e.g., Vinnicombe 1972; Challis et al. in prep.); for example, the eland i n the Drakensberg (e.g., Vinnicombe 1976; Lewis-Williams 1981), the kudu in parts of Zimbabwe (Garlake 1987) and the LSCA (Eastwood & Cnoops 1999a, 1999b), the springbok i n the Brandberg (Lenssen-Erz 1994) and the hartebeest in the Waterberg (Laue 2000). This feature of San rock art has attracted much comment. It should be noted that it is the emphasis on a particular animal that was crucial and not simply the species. It was not merely the ecology of a region that determined which animal—nearly always a species of antelope—was depicted most frequently. If so, we would expect to see more paintings of species that were abundant in particular regions; wildebeest, for example were abundant in the Free State Province, yet there are few images of them. Similarly, researchers know of very few depictions of tortoises or rock hyraxes, despite the fact that i n certain regions these animal classes are (and were) common. Clearly, cultural selection by the artists rather than the number of animals of a particular species in a particular area was the deciding factor in determining which animals were painted. It seems that throughout southern Africa there was an emphasis on ‘red meat’ antelope (Biesele 1993) and often, although not always, large antelope. The Ju/’hoan San categorize animals according to the perceived colour of their meat (Biesele 1975). They distinguish red, white and black meat animals. ‘Red meat’ animals (the sub-
21South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175) ): 15–30, 2002
21
nimals do not have horns. Again, it is difficult to be definite about the species, especially since females (without horns) are depicted. The mountain reedbuck (Redunca fulvorufula) and grey rhebuck (Pelea capreolus) have relatively longer and narrower ears than the southern (or common) reedbuck (Redunca arundinum). The grey rhebuck, unlike the other two species, has underparts scarcely paler than its back; the other two species have white bellies (Smithers 1983). A cursory examination would therefore suggest that the panel illustrates grey rhebuck. The mountain reedbuck, however, is the only species of the three that does not have any black markings on its legs and it i s heavier and more thick-set than the rhebuck; for these reasons—and the reasons regarding formal analysis outlined above—we exercise caution. Particular care also needs to be taken when exploring San beliefs about these species. Although researchers know little for sure about the significance of rhebuck (and even less about reedbuck) in the art, it seems likely that depictions of these smaller buck were conceptually associated in ways that are not perfectly clear with the same pattern of thought as the large, ‘red meat’ antelope; to this end rhebuck/reedbuck are placed i n category 1A. Commenting in 1873 on depictions of rhebuck in the Drakensberg, Joseph Orpen’s San guide, Qing, spoke of a myth involving the ‘chief’ named Qwanciqutshaa, (one of the three ‘chiefs’ who lived in the sky, the others being /Kaggen and Cogaz, /Kaggen’s son) and the killing of a rhebuck. “Qwanciqutshaa had killed a red rhebuck and was skinning it when he saw his elands [sic] running about and wondered what had startled them. He left the meat and took the skin and went home…” (Orpen 1874). We consider the connection between smaller buck and skins depicted in the art later. Qing also explained to Orpen that the men with “rhebuck heads…live mostly underwater…they tame elands and snakes…they are people spoilt by the—dance, because their noses bleed” (Orpen 1874:10). Qing later reiterated part of this statement, saying that the depictions of men with rhebuck heads represented medicine people (shamans) who had been “spoilt... by the dances” (Orpen 1874). These passages can be translated in the shamanistic model: each piece of information can be read as a metaphor for a shamanic trance-related experience or belief (Lewis-Williams 1980). (For the purposes of this paper we employ Paul Taçon’s (1983) definitions of these terms: shamanic is directly related to rituals performed by shamans, especially those in an altered state of consciousness, whereas shamanistic denotes diverse rituals and beliefs situated in a tiered cosmos.) Both of Qing’s statements suggest that the medicine men entered a state of deep trance by the means of the healing (or trance) dance (Lewis-Williams 1981). Being ‘spoilt by the dance’ can be equated with the ‘death’ of !k ia: the entry into and passage through the spirit realm achieved through the dance; when shamans are ‘spoilt’ they undergo pain and ‘death’ and often suffer nasal haemorrhaging (Lewis-Williams 1977). The sub-aquatic reference is also linked directly to the trance experience; informants who have experienced altered states of consciousness describe a feeling of weightlessness (Halifax 1979).
Fig. 7. The Linton posture. One of several supine figures at Bongani. Note the crossed arms over the torso. It has long been known that Qing’s use of the word ‘tame’—recorded among the southern /Xam and the Kalahari Ju/’hoan—most probably refers to the concept of control or possession of animals by shamans (Lewis-Williams 1980). In the instance of ‘taming’ eland, as in Qing’s statement, this indicates the possession of eland potency (n/om) and the ability to control the game herds in both the spirit world and this. The same can be said for the possession of animal potency i n the case of ‘taming’ snakes but here Qing gives us another clue. When pointing to a depiction of a bovid rain-animal Qing insisted that the “animal which the men are catching is a snake” (Orpen 1874). Despite the fact that the rain-animal seems t o resemble an eland or cow, we also know that snakes are creatures of the rain (Bleek 1933). The words snake and rainanimal can therefore be considered interchangeable; they are the same in the minds of the initiated, the men with rhebuck heads. These therianthropes probably depict shamans of the rain who have harnessed rhebuck potency. “The men with rhebuck heads…tame elands and snakes” can therefore be read as follows: “the initiated rhebuck sha-
22
South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175): 15–30, 2002
mans…control the game and the rain”. If rhebuck shamans—shamans that harnessed rhebuck potency—were able t o mediate among men, the game animals and the rain, rhebuck themselves must have been of particular importance to the San. These are the kind of beliefs that need to be explored if this feature of the art is to be fully understood.
as is the case in other regions of southern Africa such as the central Limpopo basin (Eastwood 1999) and the Drakensberg (Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989). Because of the widespread nature of this particular motif, it should be considered as a strong candidate for category 1, especially if further regions with humans holding arrows are found. In Figure 4, the two male figures on the right each hold three arrows in one hand and a bow in the other. Particularly in the case of the central figure, it is difficult to distinguish where the hand ends and where the arrows begin. The figure on the left is carrying a stick and does not have clear sexual characteristics; red protrusions under the arm may represent breasts so the figure may in fact be female. At another site we again find three figures, all male, carrying equipment The figures on the left hold stylized arrows, again i n groups of three; the fading of the figure on the right renders i t difficult to tell exactly what it is carrying. The figure to the left holds a bow in its other hand and the central figure what appears to be some form of loincloth or apron (cf. Blundell & Eastwood 2001); a similar item is attached to the waist of the figure o n the right. The significance of these items is considered later. Whilst arrows were, of course, everyday pieces of San equipment, Deacon (1992) has shown that they were as much “artefacts of the mind” as “artefacts of technology”. It is therefore important to explore San beliefs about arrows. Although it is hard to be sure if bunches of arrows are supposed to be real or supernatural, it appears as if the holding of arrows by human figures is most probably connected with the harnessing and controlling of potency. We suggest that these depictions of arrows should be understood in terms of San beliefs about n/om, the supernatural potency that is, as we have seen, suggested by the emphasis on ‘red meat’ antelope in the Bongani Reserve rock art. We know that arrows have n/om and are dangerous in both physical and supernatural senses (Marshall 1976). They are dangerous not only because a slight scratch from a poisoned point will cause death but also because the spirits of the dead shoot mystical arrows of sickness into people whom they wish to harm. These mystical arrows are depicted in several southern African rock art panels (Lewis-Williams 1988b, 1999). Grasping more than one arrow, a motif that the Bongani Reserve images repeatedly depict, may be intended to represent the grasping and manipulation of n/om. In this way, multiple arrows may be akin to holding two or more flywhisks, objects that are associated with the curing dance and keeping sickness at bay (Lewis-Williams 1981; Eastwood 1999). Panels such as the one shown in Figure 4 may therefore refer t o the exchange and control of potency during trance, as Eastwood (1999) has argued on the basis of his work in the central Limpopo basin in the north of South Africa. In trance the shamandancers contact god and draw arrows of sickness out of the bodies of those whom they cure and then expel them through the backs of their necks, that is, from the n//ao spot. In a different context, shamans are able to channel and control activated supernatural potency by shooting invisible arrows of potency into novices to increase their powers: “sometimes by snapping their fingers, always trying to regulate the number of arrows and the intensity of the [n/om] they carry” (Katz 1982). Drawing on this notion, Eastwood (1999) suggests that “processions of men with arrows represent shamans bearing the metaphysical arrows of potency”.
Fig. 9. ‘Palette’ from the rain-animal site.
Category 1B: Widely distributed unintelligible motifs
Also present in the Bongani Reserve are lines of human figures (Fig. 3), similar to those found in the Drakensberg, for instance (Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989). Some of the figures in these files possess intelligible features, such as lines emanating from the top of their heads. These lines can be explained by referring to both neuropsychological evidence and San beliefs. Laboratory experiments have shown that people in altered states of consciousness experience a tingling sensation in the top of the head and ethnography informs us that when a trancer’s spirit leaves his body it does so through a ‘hole’ i n the top of the head (Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989). As i n many panels in other regions such as the Drakensberg (LewisWilliams & Dowson 1989), despite the presence of such intelligible features and the close association with other shamanistic characteristics (such as therianthropic figures), the rows of figures themselves are not intelligible (cf. Smuts 1999). Thus, lines of human figures are placed in category 1B.
Category 2A: Regional intelligible motifs
Many of the human figures in the region hold arrows (Fig. 4),
23South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175) ): 15–30, 2002
23
A further supernatural motif that may be associated with n/om i s a semi-circle of white dots surrounding the head of the middle figure in Figure 4. This panel can be usefully compared with one in KwaZulu-Natal (Fig. 5). Dowson (1989) has argued that the microdots in southern African rock art “depict a form of potency that is intimately associated with the human body through synesthesia”. The dots and their significance certainly tally with the concept of shamans bearing metaphysical arrows of potency. In addition to items of equipment there are examples in the Bongani Reserve of a motif that is characteristic of the rock art of Zimbabwe. These motifs are generally known as formlings, a German appellation given to them by Frobenius (1931). Formlings occur in diverse shapes and sizes but usually comprise regular oval or rectangular cores, each with its own white semicircular cap at one or both ends (Garlake 1990, 1995; Mguni in prep.) The cores—usually dark in colour—are often depicted vertically and side-by-side, or stacked horizontally; sometimes they are outlined or enclosed by a circular line. Their surfaces are usually covered by grids, or lines of white dots (Mguni in prep.). The example illustrated in Figure 6 depicts six vertical cores in dark red ochre; there is no white pigment present in the panel. Early researchers interpreted these images as beehives or honeycombs (Pager 1973, 1976; Woodhouse 1994), or as landscape scenery (Frobenius 1931; Goodall 1959). Recent work has argued that formlings depict not daily or narrative phenomena but what Garlake (1995) calls the “seat of potency” i n humans, corresponding to the abdominal region, which includes the stomach, spleen and liver (Mguni in prep.). At present researchers are not aware of the full significance of formlings. In the Bongani Reserve there is an example of a human posture that has not been widely reported or discussed. Indeed, it is its occurrence in the Bongani Reserve that has, for us, crystallized its importance. We dub it the Linton posture because there are two examples in the well-known Linton panel from the Eastern Cape Province, now in the South African Museum, Cape Town (Lewis-Williams 1988b); other examples are two equally wellknown figures at Diana’s Vow in Zimbabwe (Garlake 1995). The Linton posture is exemplified by supine human figures with one knee raised so that its foot is touching, or near to, the knee of the other leg. The leg that is not raised is also bent at the knee. The arms may be parallel to the sides or extended; both the Diana’s Vow figures have one arm bent so that its hand i s beneath or next to the head. The posture is akin to another, better known, human posture, featuring a raised knee and an extended arm, often with a pointing finger that shoots potency into the stomachs of dancers (Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989). The reasons why we consider the Linton posture figures to be intelligible are evident both at Diana’s Vow and in the Linton panel itself. One of the Diana’s Vow figures has “a long muzzle...[and] the white stripes and eye surrounds of a sable” (Garlake 1987:77). There is also a dog-like creature and a number of human figures with “the characteristic body markings of sable antelope” (Garlake 1987). Garlake comments (1987:77):
Two [of the associated human figures] hold their arms rigidly in front, a position suggestive of incipient trance...The key elements of the panel suggest that a sable dance is taking place, including trance and activating potency, [n/om]. The dance reaches its fulfillment in the two largest [supine] figures, their potency or [n/om] made visible as ovals attached t o their bodies, as they lie in trance.
Fig. 10. Animal skin apron. This example is approx. 400 x 250 mm. In the Linton panel, the supine figure is associated with an antelope-headed snake that lies on its back and bleeds from the nose, numerous fish, eels, eland, a rhebuck (which also bleeds from the nose) and the sinuous red line fringed with white dots that probably represents the ‘threads of light’ that shamans say they climb on their way to the spirit world (Lewis-Williams 1988b; Lewis-Williams et al. 2000). These elements, together with details of the Linton supine figures themselves, such as nasal bleeding and the raised knee (which may be connected with the tightening of the stomach muscles experienced b y shamans in trance) confirm Garlake’s suggestion concerning
24
South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175): 15–30, 2002
the Diana’s Vow figures that they are related to shamanic experience (Lewis-Williams 1981; Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989). The Bongani Reserve figure is very similar to the Linton posture (Fig. 7). It is supine and has both knees raised; its legs appear to cross one another. Its arms are also crossed over its torso. Above is a similar, smaller, figure, with uncrossed legs and with only one arm crossed over its torso. Both figures have uninfibulated penises. At another site is a more upright figure of similar size, also painted in red. Its legs are crossed but its arms are parallel to its sides; it also has an uninfibulated penis. The Bongani Reserve images, therefore, although not identical to the ones in Zimbabwe or in the Linton panel, are consonant with the shamanistic context to which many other features of the art in the area also point.
rain-animals, or rain bulls. The /Xam of the Northern Cape Province thought of the rain as an animal and distinguished between the rain bull which was associated with thunderstorms and lightning and the female rain-animal which was linked with soft, soaking rains (Bleek 1933). The /Xam informants went o n to describe how shamans entered trance in order to capture a rain-animal and to lead it across the parched land. Bleek (1933) learned that the so-called shamans of the rain killed or cut the creatures so that their blood and milk would become rain. An additional non-real feature of the Bongani Reserve rainanimal is a white line that emanates from the animal’s back and connects with a running man holding a bow and several arrows. A crack in the rock surface curves around the animal’s head and runs parallel to the creature’s back. Below the rain-animal are two figures holding bows, superimposed upon an eland with delicately painted horns. As in depictions of rain-animals elsewhere, it seems as if the example in the Bongani Reserve i s being led from behind the rock face (e.g., Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989) and is thus consonant with depictions of numerous other rain-animals. The Bongani Reserve rain-animal greatly extends the geographical area in which depictions of rain-animals occur. Most of the motifs that we have so far discussed point, cumulatively, to San religious beliefs. This focus of the evidence encourages us to consider the implications that another motif in the Bongani Reserve has for San beliefs about a tiered cosmos and the location of rock shelters in that cosmos. As in the Western Cape Province (Yates et al. 1990) and the central Limpopo basin (Eastwood pers. comm.), we find round and oval patches of pigment juxtaposed with—and sometimes superimposed upon—painted figures and images, usually of the same colour or colours used throughout the rest of the panel (Fig. 9). Though termed palettes, these patches of paint are sometimes found on the ceilings of rock shelters, a location that suggests they were not used for mixing paint (Yates et al. 1990). Indeed, many of the Bongani Reserve patches of paint have been rubbed, as have those in the Western Cape Province (Yates et al. 1990). In some cases this rubbing has resulted in a polished surface. The rubbing is isolated and specific so that there can be little doubt that such an action was deliberate. The Bongani Reserve ‘palettes’, present in at least eight sites, are some of the first to be found outside of the Western Cape Province. Ethnography has shown that substances, such as blood and fat, used in the preparation of paint were considered to be potent i n their own right; the paint was sometimes believed to be able t o facilitate entrance into and exit from the spirit world (LewisWilliams & Blundell 1997). This notion seems to be implied by lines and objects that often appear to protrude from the patches of pigment; researchers do not yet know exactly what these objects represent but they are most probably connected with Lewis-Williams’s (1990) observation that parts of, or entire, antelope—particularly eland—often appear to emerge from steps, cracks and patches of paint on rock surfaces throughout the Drakensberg. This connection is supported b y the image-context of the ‘palettes’. Often the patches of paint are found in association with dancing or clapping shamanic figures; the touching and rubbing of paint on the rock face, the
Fig. 11. Curved trail figures. Note the T-shaped objects held b y two of the figures and the white bands around the stomach. Scale in 5 mm. Orpen’s informant, Qing, enlarged our understanding of San shamanistic contexts when he associated the men with rhebuck heads with rain-animals. These fantasy creatures, embodiments of rain, are common in the Drakensberg and adjacent areas but are unknown in, for instance, the Cederberg; they are therefore a regional motif. This said, there are instances of elephantine creatures in the Western Cape Province (Maggs & Sealy 1983) that show similar characteristics to those in the Drakensberg and recently one of us (CdR) discovered a rain-animal in the Waterberg; the rain-animal motif is therefore a good candidate for promotion into the widely distributed category (1A). So far we have found only one persuasive example in the Bongani Reserve (Fig. 8. See front cover.). It is about 30 cm. long and is painted in red, with a white line running along the underside of its neck. Its torso is bovine but it possesses an unusual snout and splayed ears. It does not resemble any known species but rather appears to be a deliberate blending of species. It i s important to remember that we have no examples of domestic animals in the art, since at first glance the rain-animal appears somewhat bovine or porcine. To identify it we turn to comparable images in other parts of South Africa. When shown similar images in George William Stow’s nineteenth-century copies, Bleek and Lloyd’s /Xam informants said that they depicted
25South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175) ): 15–30, 2002
25
veil between this and the spirit world, would have been an important part of shamanistic ritual after the paintings had been executed. Despite Western preconceptions, it seems as if certain rock art images were made to be touched and were themselves the product of ritual touching (Lewis-Williams 1995a; Lewis-Williams & Blundell 1997).
Category 2B: Regional unintelligible motifs
Another interesting motif, found in the Bongani Reserve and i n many regions in southern Africa, is infibulation of the penis. There are examples of infibulation in the Drakensberg (Lee & Woodhouse 1970; Vinnicombe 1976; Willcox 1978; LewisWilliams 1981; Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989), a few i n Zimbabwe (Walker 1996), the Cederberg (Hollmann 1993) and the Brandberg in Namibia (Pager 1989). Since, however, this feature is not found in regions such as the LSCA (Eastwood pers. comm., although there are infrequent examples in the Makgabeng plateau) or the Waterberg (Laue pers. comm.) and since it is not intelligible, it is placed in category 2B. New finds may, however, render it a candidate for category 1B. There have been many suggestions concerning the significance of this motif, alternatively named ‘penis-additament’ by Willcox in the 1970s because the word infibulation technically only applies to the fastening of a ring through the prepuce of the penis: the objects depicted in San paintings are not necessarily rings (see Willcox 1978 for a summary). We retain the word infibulation because, in spite of its misleading connotations, i t has become widely accepted and is less cumbersome than Willcox’s alternative. As early as 1929 Raymond Dart suggested that infibulation represented a bored stone and was part of a male initiation cult (Dart 1929). Townley Johnson later believed infibulation to be purely ornamental (Willcox 1978), as did Woodhouse (Lee & Woodhouse 1970), although the latter also thought that i t might have denoted acceptance into a special group or society. Vinnicombe (1976) argued that infibulation symbolized prohibition (of sexual intercourse or urination) as part of the hunting ritual while Breuil (1948) had earlier suggested that the infubulation bar represented some form of “moral prohibition”. Willcox (1978) himself believed the infibulation bar to be decorative or protective. At present researchers still do not fully understand the significance of infibulation, hence the placing of this feature in category 2B. Figure 4 includes two figures with infibulated penises; interestingly—although not uniquely—the penis does not extend beyond the infibulation bar. In the other panel depicting arrow holding all three of the figures again have infibulated penises; in this instance only one does not extend beyond the infibulation bar. Another feature found in several regions of southern Africa i s illustrated in Figure 10. The Bongani Reserve example i s 400 mm. by 250 mm., in red. Very little is known about these images, which are rare in the Bongani Reserve though far more common in the central Limpopo Basin (Eastwood pers. comm.). Pager (1975) suggested that Y-shaped variations may be “Hottentot aprons or bags” but then discounted the suggestion, arguing instead that they were fish traps. Eastwood & Cnoops (1994) took up one of these possibilities, suggesting that they might be depictions of loincloths or aprons. More
recently, Blundell & Eastwood (2001) have shown in their study of the LSCA rock art that certain animal-skin shapes represent women’s aprons and that they are often associated with antelope, groups of male and female human figures and large herbivores. These depictions of aprons are not only characteristic of the rock paintings of the central Limpopo Basin and Tsodilo Hills but are also found in significant numbers in the rock engravings of the central interior of South Africa (Eastwood et al. in press). Depictions of skins worn (especially in the form of karosses) by human figures are found in many regions of southern Africa such as the Drakensberg, where we also find many depictions of bags (Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989); researchers are not yet positive of the relationship between animals, animal skins, karosses, aprons and loincloths (skins worn by humans) and bags. We do know, however, that in the Kalahari the smaller game, including ‘red meat’ animals but most notably steenbok and duiker, are favoured for the making of these items of material culture (Eastwood pers. comm.). In the Drakensberg—where paintings of skins worn by humans and bags are common—the most commonly depicted small antelope is the rhebuck. In the Bongani Reserve region we also find examples of rhebuck/reedbuck and of skins (some worn by humans) but whether there is a definite connection between rhebuck/reedbuck and the skins remains to be clarified.
Fig. 12. Figure with forked object and two protrusions from the top of the head.
We must note here, however, that bags—also Bongani Reserve art—are imbued with potency. made from ‘red meat’ animals that possess n/om not necessarily distinguish between the word for present in the They are often and the San do an artefact and
26
South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175): 15–30, 2002
that for the substance of which it is made. Drawing from the myth ‘A visit to the Lion’s House’ (in which the lion hides in a bag), Lewis-Williams has argued that placing oneself in a bag is equivalent to placing oneself inside an animal, that is, taking on its potency (Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989). Further research is needed to shed light on the relationship among skins, animals and bags. Another motif characteristic of the Bongani Reserve rock art also appears to be a distinctive item of material culture. An unusual T-shaped accoutrement—that may or may not be connected with the arrows discussed earlier—is illustrated in Figure 11. Two of the figures in the panel hold enigmatic T-shaped objects. Comparable equipment—in all its variations—is found at several other sites in and around the reserve. Often, the objects are associated with a ‘curved-trail’ figure (see below). At another site the figure holds items in both hands; in one is a stick-like object with a forked head and in the other a long stem from which extend four branches, all painted in red (see appended Fig. A). Although the accoutrement is sometimes more Y-shaped than T-shaped, both shapes are often associated with such ‘curved-trail’ figures. At present we do not know if there is necessarily any connection between the two shapes other than this association with ‘curved-trail’ figures. At another site a forked object is held by a figure with two protrusions emanating from the top of its head (Figure 12).
and controlling of potency (in a way that is not yet entirely clear), more research needs to be undertaken on the holding of forked objects (both T- and Y-shaped) before definitive conclusions regarding such items of material culture can be drawn. We believe that there are most probably yet more ‘curved-trail’ figures in the area and that the discovery and study of the figures may shed some light on the forked objects that they hold.
Category 3B: Extremely rare unintelligible motifs
We now consider extremely rare (idiosyncratic) and unique motifs that cannot be said to be characteristic of any region. All at the Bongani Reserve are at present unintelligible. Instances of hares and rabbits in the paintings of southern Africa are decidedly uncommon; researchers are still not sure of their significance. Vinnicombe (1976) mentions two paintings of hares in her work in the Underberg area of the Drakensberg and Revil Mason (1962) published a photograph of what he believed to be a hare. There are also several examples of paintings of hares in the Matopos in Zimbabwe (Walker 1996). It is difficult to be definite regarding which species of hare/rabbit is depicted in any of these regions, including the Bongani Reserve (Fig. 13). Scrub hares (Lepus saxatilis) are slimmer and have smaller heads than the Cape hare (Lepus capensis) but both species are found throughout the Kruger National Park region. The Natal red rock rabbit (Pronolagus crassicaudatus), despite having smaller ears and a more-rounded body, is similar: both scrub hares and red rock rabbits are approximately 60 cm. long but the latter is more rufous i n colour and has a greyish band stretching from the chin to the lower jaw (Smithers 1983). Because of these similarities and despite the San myths involving hares (Biesele 1983), we exercise caution. A slightly more intelligible motif is exemplified in Figure 11. Painted in a dark red colour are three human figures that have long streamer-like protrusions. A faded fourth figure can be seen below—and at a different angle to—the others. We think that the protrusions are unlikely to be extended legs, since what appear to be two feet are tucked under the abdomen of each figure. We do, however, concede that the lower of the two feet, may, in fact, be a penis.
Fig. 13. Hare/rabbit-like image. The protrusions resemble extended versions of those emanating from five figures at a site in Lesotho (Lewis-Williams 1982). They also bear a resemblance to versions of those extending from figures in the eastern Free State Province (Loubser & Laurens 1994). Loubser & Laurens (1994) state that the Free State protrusions—which are less curved than those at the Bongani Reserve—appear to be “reptile-like” tails (Loubser & Laurens 1994). Qing identified depictions of men with reptilelike tails in a shelter in the Drakensberg as living “mostly underwater” (Orpen 1874:10). As established earlier, the fact that such figures “tame elands and snakes” indicate a shamanistic context and the likelihood that the Free State figures themselves are shamans. A further shamanistic context is established by the fact that the
Garlake (1990, 1995) identified similar forked objects in Zimbabwe and Jeremy Hollmann (pers. comm.) has recently discovered others in the Western Cape Province. Laue (2000), drawing from Garlake’s work, has identified the possibility that similar T-shapes found in the Waterberg and Zimbabwe may be crescent-shaped arrow points that were not designed specifically for hunting purposes. Since the T-shape seems t o be too unwieldy to represent an actual projectile, it is possible that it represents the potency that arrows contain (Laue 2000); this possibility is given support by Deacon’s (1992) theory (discussed earlier) on arrows being “artefacts of the mind”. Although we know that arrows may represent the harnessing
27South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175) ): 15–30, 2002
27
Bongani Reserve figures have white stomach bands, which may refer to the sensation of constriction around the stomach area experienced by shamans in trance, caused by boiling potency (Dowson 1989). Shamans in the Kalahari describe as the stomach tightening “into a balled fist” (Katz 1982:46), or one’s sides being “fastened by pieces of metal” (Biesele 1975:155, 1980:56). We argue that the Bongani Reserve images may also be usefully compared with some in KwaZulu-Natal and the Western Cape Province. The images from the Estcourt, Clanwilliam, Mooi River and Nsikazi (Bongani) Districts (Fig. 14) were painted b y different artists and result from those individuals’ own experiences. There is, however, a common theme running through the four depictions—that of the coupling of human figures with what are arguably nested catenary curves—which could shed some light on their inception. Nested curves or U-shapes are commonly experienced in altered states of consciousness and more explicitly painted elsewhere (Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1989; Lewis-Williams 1995b). The panel at the Bongani Reserve combines human figures with a construal of nested catenary curves, usually seen in the second stage of altered consciousness, when the subject attempts to understand more fully the geometric forms seen in the first, or lightest, stage of trance (Lewis-Williams 1995b). As Horowitz (1964:514, 1975:177, 181) states: “During this stage, subjects try to make sense of entoptic phenomena by elaborating them into iconic forms of people, animals and important or emotionally charged objects”. There are numerous examples of this combination of non-real nested curves and real human, animal or object images (LewisWilliams 1988a, 1995b, 1997; Lewis-Williams & Dowson 1998), yet their meaning remains difficult to ascertain. In instances where the images contain representations of aspects in the San cosmos that we have access to through the ethnography, we can begin to point towards possible meaning (LewisWilliams 1995b). For now, though, the Bongani Reserve figures remain enigmatic. It should be noted however, that these four figures are not isolated. As previously mentioned, within the reserve itself there are two other sites, each with a single ‘curved-trail’ figure, one of which holds brand-like accoutrements similar to those at the site described above. Nearby in the Kruger National Park there is a site of striking similarity. Here, there are four trails nested one above the other and hind quarters and crouched legs of the four associated figures. Their trails are more obviously nested, though unfortunately the torsos of all four figures have disappeared in a wash. The discovery of more ‘curved-trail’ figures may shed more light on their significance. Two outlined (or ‘hollow-bodied’) human figures (Hampson i n prep.) in the Bongani Reserve possess another significant feature: emanations from the shoulder that give the impression of emerging ‘spines’ (Fig. 15). Close to an outlined elephant is a figure in red with a solid head and an outlined body. Briefly, we look first at these outlined figures that abound in the Bongani Reserve and its environs. Some depictions of animals in the Bongani Reserve, as in the Tsodilo Hills in Botswana (Campbell et al. 1994) and the central Limpopo basin (Eastwood pers. comm.) have a dark red outline and a slightly
lighter infill. Some appear to have deliberate patterns within the painted bodies that do not appear to be the result of differential weathering. Others appear to contain no paint within the outline, although this in no way proves that this was always the case; for this reason we do not intend to suggest any possible explanations that could be associated with outlined figures at present. We note, however, that the making of images by the San seemed to follow certain rules (cf. Smith 1998). Moreover, these rules were related to a series of ritual stages that began with a decision to make an image, continued through the collection of pigment and the preparation of paint and extended t o the varied use of images after their making was complete (Lewis-Williams 1995a). If the technological chain in which image-making was situated was ritually and socially constituted (Dobres 2000), it is likely that images that were not filled i n were not incomplete and that the outline on the rock face was not ignored but that they were subsequently used in some way. Indeed, it is likely that outlined figures have certain significances that are still obscure to us (Hampson in prep.).
Fig. 14. Nested U-shape images from: a) Estcourt District, KwaZulu-Natal Province (Colours: red and white), b) Clanwilliam District, Western Cape Province (Colours: red with yellow neck), c) Mooi River District, KwaZulu-Natal Province, d) Nsikazi District (Bongani), Mpumalanga Province. At another site is a similar figure with an elongated neck and arms and solid emanations from the shoulder, this time at a more acute (vertical) angle. Both of the figures with emanations from the shoulders are male. Emanations of lines and dots from the shoulder area have been suggested to represent the expulsion of sickness from the n//ao spot, as seen at Scot shelter in the Soutpansberg, or to repre
28
South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175): 15–30, 2002
sent arrows held there by a strap to facilitate easy access and rapid shooting. Eastwood (1999) cites the example of Dancers’ Cave in the Drakensberg to give credence to this second suggestion. At this site clapping women surround men in trance. Each man in the panel holds one arrow. Some have projections emanating from the shoulders or upper back. More research needs to be undertaken before any definitive conclusions can be drawn.
Conclusion
Intelligible hunter-gatherer images that are found throughout the subcontinent point, in various ways, to San beliefs about a tiered cosmos and the shamans who traverse this cosmos. Certainly, the Bongani Reserve and its environs conform to the overall pan-southern African pattern in this respect. Few regions seem not to have images intelligible in these terms; i n addition, some, such as the Tsodilo Hills and the central Limpopo basin, appear to possess other intelligible images that are not explicitly shamanic as well (Campbell et al. 1994; Eastwood et al. in press). What, then, can the perceived stylistic regions and the regions established by the presence or absence of motifs be said to signify? They are clearly not identical. Image-makers in some regions emphasized certain motifs while remaining within the broad San religious and cosmological framework. Exactly what those regional emphases may signify is, at present, impossible to say. Still, researchers are more likely to arrive at answers to this question if they construct rock-art regions within San art on the basis of intelligible motifs than if they remain with stylistic criteria, the significance of which is still not understood. There are a number of under-researched areas in southern Africa and the Bongani Reserve Mountain Lodge region is certainly one of them. The preliminary work that we have carried out shows that the rock art of Mpumalanga Province is more prolific, diverse and complex than hitherto suspected. This paper should be seen as a springboard for further research into images and their regional distribution in southern Africa. This said, i t is important to guard against interpreting the art of unexplored regions purely in terms of what is already known about wellresearched ones. There is a danger that new themes and nuances will be reduced to what has already been argued or suggested. Researchers need to seek differences and not just similarities. As work progresses, new motifs and combinations of motifs will come to light and our understanding of the diversity and complexity of San rock art will be deepened.
Acknowledgements
We thank Benjamin Smith, Jeremy Hollmann, Siyakha Mguni and Ghilraen Laue for comments on drafts of this paper and Sally Coleman, Olivia Tuchten, Robyn Pickering and Olivia Campbell for redrawing many of our tracings. We give especial thanks to David Lewis-Williams for his many suggestions and first-rate mentoring. We also thank the Editor, John Parkington and an anonymous referee for their comments; and the Bongani Mountain Lodge, Conservation Corporation Africa, Alan Payne and the Board of Executors for allowing us to work in the reserve. The Rock Art Research Institute is funded by the University of the Witwatersrand, the National Research Foundation, Anglo-American Chairman’s Fund, De Beers Fund Educational Trust and AngloGold. We express our gratitude to our funders. Opinions expressed in this paper and conclusions arrived at are ours and are not necessarily to be attributed to our funders.
Fig. 15. ‘Outlined’ figure with emanations from the shoulder.
29South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175) ): 15–30, 2002
29
References
Biesele, M. 1975. Folklore and ritual of !Kung hunter gatherers. Unpublished Ph.D. thesis. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University. Biesele, M. 1978. Religion and folklore. In: Tobias, P.V. (ed.) The Bushmen: hunters and herders of southern Africa: 162–172. Cape Town: Human & Rousseau. Biesele, M. 1993. Women like meat: the folklore and foraging ideology of the Kalahari Ju/’hoan. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press. Bleek, D.F. 1933. Beliefs and customs of the /Xam Bushmen. Part V: The rain. Part VI: Rain-making. Bantu Studies 7: 29–312, 375–92. Blundell, G. & Eastwood, E.B. 2001. Identifying Y-shaped motifs in the San rock art of the Limpopo-Shashi Confluence Area (LSCA), southern Africa: new painted and ethnographic evidence. South African Journal of Science 97: 305–308. Breuil, H. 1948. The White Lady of the Brandberg, South-West Africa, her companions and her guards. South African Archaeological Bulletin 3: 2–11. Burkitt, M.C. 1928. South Africa’s past in stone and paint. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Campbell, A., Denbow, J. & Wilmsen, E. 1994. Paintings like engravings: rock art at Tsodilo. In: Dowson, T.A. & LewisWilliams, J.D. (eds) Contested Images: diversity in southern African rock art research: 131–158. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press. Challis, W.C., Laue, G.B., Mguni, S. & Hampson, J.G. In prep. People of the ‘X’? Coates Palgrave, K. 1977. Trees of southern Africa. Cape Town: Struik. Dart, R. 1929. Phallic objects in southern Africa. South African Journal of Science 26: 553–562. Deacon, J. 1992. Arrows as agents of belief amongst the /Xam Bushmen. Margaret Shaw Lecture 3. Cape Town: South African Museum. Dobres, M-A. 2000. Technology of social agency: outlining a practise framework for archaeology. Oxford: Blackwell. Dowson, T.A. 1988. Revelations of religious reality: the individual in San rock art. World Archaeology 20: 116–128. Dowson, T.A. 1989. Dots and dashes: cracking the entoptic code in Bushman rock paintings. South African Archaeological Society Goodwin Series 6: 84–94. Eastwood, E.B. 1999. Red lines and arrows: attributes of supernatural potency in San rock art of the Northern Province, South Africa and south-western Zimbabwe. South African Archaeological Bulletin 54: 16–27. Eastwood, E.B. & Blundell, G. 1999 Re-discovering the rock art of the Limpopo-Shashi Confluence Area, southern Africa. South African Field Archaeology 8: 17–27. Eastwood, E.B., Blundell, G. & Smith, B.W. In press. Art and authorship in southern African rock art: examining the Limpopo-Shashe Confluence Area. In: Chippindale, C., Smith, B.W. & Blundell, G. (eds) Seeing and knowing. Eastwood, E.B. & Cnoops, C.J.H. 1994. The rock paintings of Greefswald. Die Rooi Olifant 10: 9–11. Eastwood, E.B. & Cnoops, C.J.H. 1999a. Capturing the spoor: towards explaining kudu in San rock art of the LimpopoShashi Confluence Area. South African Archaeological Bulletin 54: 107–119.
Eastwood, E.B. & Cnoops, C.J.H. 1999b. Results of the LimpopoShashi Confluence Area rock art survey: a quantitative and interpretive study. Unpubl. Report for the De Beers Fund. English, M. 1990. Die rotskuns van die Boesmans (San) in die Nasionale Krugerwildtuin. In: Pienaar, U. de V. Neem uit die verleede: 18–24. Pretoria: South Africa National Parks. Frobenius, L. 1931. Madzimu Dsangara. Berlin: Atlantis Verlag. Garlake, P.S. 1987. The painted caves: an introduction to the prehistoric rock art of Zimbabwe. Harare: Modus. Garlake, P.S. 1990. Symbols of potency in the paintings of Zimbabwe. South African Archaeological Bulletin 45: 17–27. Garlake, P.S. 1995. The hunter’s vision: the prehistoric art of Zimbabwe. London: British Museum. Goodall, E. 1959. The rock art of Mashonaland. In: Summers, R.F.H. (ed.) Prehistoric rock art of the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland: 3–111. Salisbury [Harare]: National Publications Trust. Halifax, J. 1979. Shamanic Voices: a survey of visionary narratives. New York: Dutton. Halkett, D. 1987. Archaeology of the Putslaagte. In: Parkington, J. & Hall, M. (eds). Papers in the prehistory of the Western Cape, South Africa: 377–392. Oxford: British Archaeological Reports International Series 332(ii). Hall, S. 1994. Images of Interaction: rock art and sequence in the Eastern Cape. In: Dowson, T.A. & Lewis-Williams, J.D. (eds) Contested Images: diversity in southern African rock art research: 61–82. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press. Hall, S. & Smith, B.W. 2000. Empowering places: rock shelters and ritual control in farmer-forager interaction in the Northern Province, South Africa. South African Archaeological Society Goodwin Series 8: 30–46. Hampson, J.G. In prep. ‘Outlined’ figures in southern African rock art. Hollmann, J. 1993. Preliminary report on the Koebee rock paintings, Western Cape Province, South Africa. South African Archaeological Bulletin 48: 16–25. Katz, R. 1982. Boiling energy; community-healing among the Kalahari !Kung. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Laue, G.B. 2000. Taking a stance: posture and meaning in the rock art of the Waterberg, Northern Province, South Africa. Unpublished MSc thesis, University of the Witwatersrand. Lee, D.N. & Woodhouse, H.C. 1970. Art on the rocks of southern Africa. Cape Town: Purnell. Lenssen-Erz, T. 1994. Jumping about: springbok in the Brandberg rock paintings and in the Bleek and Lloyd collection. An attempt at a correlation. In: Dowson, T.A. & Lewis-Williams, J.D. (eds) Contested Images: diversity in southern African rock art research: 275–291. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press. Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1972. The syntax and function of the Giant’s Castle rock paintings. South African Archaeological Bulletin 27: 49–65. Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1974. Rethinking the Southern African rock paintings. Origini 8: 229–57. Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1980. Ethnography and iconography: aspects of southern San thought and art. Man 15: 467–82. Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1981. Believing and seeing: symbolic meanings in southern San rock paintings. London: Academic Press. Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1988a. Reality and non-reality in San rock art. Twenty-fifth Raymond Dart Lecture. Johannesburg: Institute for the Study of Man in Africa.
30
South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175): 15–30, 2002
Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1988b. The world of man and the world of spirit: an interpretation of the Linton rock paintings. Second Margaret Shaw Lecture. Cape Town: South African Museum. Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1990. Discovering southern African rock art. Cape Town: David Philip. Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1995a. Modelling the production and consumption of rock art. South African Archaeological Bulletin 50: 143–154. Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1995b. Seeing and construing: the making and ‘meaning’ of a southern African rock art motif. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 5: 1, 3–23. Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1997. Agency, art and altered consciousness: a motif in French (Quercy) Upper Palaeolithic parietal art. Antiquity 71: 810–30. Lewis-Williams, J.D. & Blundell, G. 1997. New light on fingerdots in southern African rock art: synesthesia, transformation and technique. South African Journal of Science 93: 51–54. Lewis-Williams, J.D. & Dowson, T.A. 1988. The signs of all times: entoptic phenomena in Upper Palaeolithic art. Current Anthropology 29: 201–45. Lewis-Williams, J.D. & Dowson, T.A. 1989. Images of Power: understanding Bushman rock art. Johannesburg: Southern Book Publishers. Lewis-Williams, J.D., Blundell, G., Challis, W.R. & Hampson, J.G. 2000. Threads of light: re-examining a motif in southern African San rock art research. South African Archaeological Bulletin 55: 123–136. Loubser, J. & Laurens, G. 1994. Depictions of domestic ungulates and shields: hunter/gatherers and agro-pastoralists in the Caledon River valley area. In: Dowson, T.A. & Lewis-Williams, J.D. (eds) Contested Images: diversity in southern African rock art research: 83–118. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press. Low, A.B. & Rebelo, G. 1996. Vegetation of South Africa, Lesotho and Swaziland. Pretoria: Department of Environmental Affairs and Tourism. Maggs, T.M.O’C. 1995. Neglected rock art: the rock engravings of agriculturist communities in South Africa. South African Archaeological Bulletin 50: 132–142. Maggs, T.M.O’C. 1967. A quantitative analysis of the rock art from a sample area in the western Cape. South African Journal of Science 63: 100–104. Maggs, T.M.O’C. & Sealy, J. 1983. Elephants in boxes. South African Archaeological Society Goodwin Series 4: 44–48. Malan, B. 1965. The classification and distribution of rock art in South Africa. South African Journal of Science 61: 427–430. Marshall, L. 1976. The !Kung of Nyae Nyae. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Mason, R. 1962. Prehistory of the Transvaal. Johannesburg: University of the Witwatersrand Press. Mguni, S. In prep. Continuity and variation in San belief and ritual: some aspects of the enigmatic formlings and tree motifs from Matopos Hills rock art, Zimbabwe. Unpublished MA thesis: University of the Wiwatersrand. Orpen, J.M. 1874. A glimpse into the mythology of the Maluti Bushmen. Cape Monthly Magazine (n.s.) 9: 1–13. Pager, H. 1971. Ndedema: a documentation of the rock paintings of the Ndedema Gorge. Graz: Akademische Druck. Pager, H. 1973. Rock paintings in southern Africa showing bees and honey hunting. Bee World 54: 61–68.
Pager, H. 1975. Rock paintings depicting fish traps in the Limpopo Valley. South African Journal of Science 71: 119–121. Pager, H. 1976. The rating of superimposed rock paintings. Almagoren 5: 205–218. Pager, H. 1989. The rock paintings of the Upper Bradberg Part I: Amis Gorge. Rudner, J. & Rudner, I. 1970. The hunter and his art. Cape Town: Struik. Schrire, C., Deacon, J., Hall, M. & Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1986. Burkitt’s milestone. Antiquity 60: 123–131. Skotnes, P. 1996. The thin black line: diversity in the paintings of the southern San and the Bleek and Lloyd collection. In: Deacon, J. & Dowson, T.A. (eds) Voices from the past: /Xam Bushmen and the Bleek and Lloyd collection: 234–244. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press. Smith, B.W. 1998. The tale of the chameleon and the platypus: limited and likely choices in making pictures. In: Chippindale, C. & Taçon, P.S.C. (eds) The archaeology of rock-art: 212–228. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Smith, B.W. & Ouzman, S. In press. Introducing the herder art of southern Africa. South African Archaeological Bulletin. Smithers, H.N. 1983. The mammals of the southern African subregion. Pretoria: University of Pretoria. Smuts, K. 1999. Painting people: an analysis of the depiction of human figures in a sample of procession and group scenes from the rock art of the south Western Cape, South Africa. Unpublished MA thesis, University of Cape Town. Taçon, P.S.C. 1983. An analysis of Dorset art in relation to prehistoric culture stress. Inuit Studies 7: 41–65. Van Riet, W., Claasen, P., Van Rensburg, J., Van Viegen, T. & Du Plessis, L. 1997. Environmental potential atlas for South Africa. Pretoria: Van Schaik. Van Riet Lowe, C. 1952. The distribution of prehistoric rock engravings and paintings in South Africa. Archaeological Series 7. Pretoria: Archaeological survey. Vinnicombe, P. 1967. Rock painting analysis. South African Archaeological Bulletin 22: 129–141. Vinnicombe, P. 1972. Myth, motive and selection in southern African rock art. Africa 42: 192–204. Vinnicombe, P. 1976. People of the eland: rock paintings of the Drakensberg Bushmen as a reflection of their life and thought. Pietermaritzburg: Natal University Press. Walker, N. 1995. Late Pleistocene and Holocene hunter-gatherers of the Matopos. Ph.D. thesis, Societas Archaeologica Upsaliensis: Uppsala. Walker, N. 1996. The painted hills: rock art of the Matopos. Gweru: Mambo. Willcox, A. 1963. The rock art of South Africa. London: Nelson. Willcox, A. 1978. So-called ‘infibulation’ in African Rock Art: a group research project. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press. Woodhouse, H.C. 1994. Fires depicted in the rock paintings of southern Africa. Suid AfrikaanseTydskryf vir Etnologie 17: 98–102. Yates, R., J., Parkington, J. & Manhire, T. 1990. Pictures from the past: a history of the interpretation of rock paintings and engravings of southern Africa. Pietermaritzburg: Centaur Publications.
•
**
31South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175) ): 15–30, 2002
31
• •
Fig. 8. Rain-animal. Note the white line running along the underside of the animal’s neck, and also emanating from its back; the latter connects with a running man holding a bow and several arrows. (Published on front cover of the South African Archaeological Bulletin 57(175)).
32
South African Archaeological Bulletin 57 (175): 15–30, 2002
Hampson et al. 2002. Appended Fig. A.