San rock art: evidence and argument.
Lewis-Williams, J. David ; Pearce, David G.
Three years ago, we addressed, in general terms, a misapprehension
that is entertained by some writers on southern African San rock art
(Lewis-Williams & Pearce 2012). It is that the nineteenth-century
southern /Xam San did not have a 'trance dance', as the
present-day Kalahari San to the north do, and that, consequently, the
beliefs associated therewith cannot be used to understand the highly
specific southern San rock art imagery.
Today, most scholars who specialise in the study of San rock art
accept that the making of the images was a ritual practice in its own
right and that it signalled, or probably established, contact with the
spirit realm. More precisely, researchers over the last 30 or more
years, and in various parts of the subcontinent, have shown that the
images were closely, but not necessarily exclusively, associated with a
southern San brand of shamanism (e.g. Lewis-Williams 1981; Huffman 1983;
Yates et al. 1985; Dowson 1992; Smits 1993; Deacon 1994; Walker 1996;
Hollmann 2002; Blundell 2004; Lewis-Williams & Pearce 2004a; Mguni
2004; Smith & Ouzman 2004; Challis 2005; Deacon & Foster 2005;
Eastwood & Eastwood 2006; Loubser 2006; Wright & Mazel 2007;
Mazel 2009; Lewis-Williams & Challis 2011; Hampson 2013). Certain
researchers argue that some distinctive San rock art, largely in the
northern parts of the subcontinent, also deals with the initiation of
girls at puberty into womanhood (Eastwood & Eastwood 2006; Hollmann
2013). Importantly, all of the scholars listed here have both
independently weighed up the ethnographic evidence and they are familiar
with the images.
In this context, much confusion has been caused by the use of the
term 'shaman' to denote a San ritual specialist who
establishes contact with the spirit realm. In attacking the word, some
writers in southern Africa, and indeed beyond, have contrived to give
the impression that they are demolishing the concept (Whitley 2006;
Schaafsma 2013). As is well known, the word originated in Siberia, where
it denotes a person who, among other activities, enters an altered state
of consciousness to perform various tasks; usually, there is one
influential shaman per group (e.g. Eliade 1964; Vitebsky 1995). Many
shamans use hallucinogens (e.g. Eliade 1964; Vitebsky 1995). By
contrast, amongst the San there are multiple ritual specialists, largely
men but also women. Today, they induce a trance state by
hyperventilation, rhythmic dancing and sounds, and intense concentration
(e.g. Lee 1967, 1993; Marshall 1969; Biesele 1993). Mathias Guenther
writes: "In the fashion of shamans all over the world, the [San]
trance dancer, by means of altered states, enters the spirit world and
obtains from it the wherewithal to restore the health of sick fellow
humans" (Guenther 1999: 186; see also Guenther 1989). His and our
use of the word does not imply that San practices are identical with
Siberian, North American or other practices. Debate about the
appropriateness of the word 'shaman' in the San context should
not be allowed to divert attention from what the San actually do and
believe.
Anne Solomon (2013) challenges the essentially shamanistic (if the
word is to be accepted) nature of San rock art, but significantly fails
to see the historical context of southern African research. The issue is
confused by reference to Patricia Vinnicombe's supposed eschewing
of Kalahari San ethnography. Vinnicombe's 1976 book, People of the
eland, was a milestone in the development of San rock art research. Her
changing views are important.
Unlike Solomon, she later came to accept the prominence of the
trance dance in San thought and art. Referring to distinctive
trance-dance postures, she wrote:
Although I recognised the recurrence of these postures in the
painted record, their significance escaped me. One of my principal
reactions therefore, when unfolding the images that had been stored in a
tin trunk for so long [her own copies made largely in the 1960s and
1970s], was the inescapable realisation that many of them (though not
necessarily all) undoubtedly relate to the trance experience as
initially defined by Lewis-Williams. Aspects of People of the eland will
definitely need re-thinking (Vinnicombe 2001: 2).
Of her tracing of two 'part-human/part-animal figures',
she wrote:
When these painted details were recorded in 1974, the specific
associations with supernatural power, trancing and the spirit world were
not yet clear. Thanks to later ethnographic deductions made by David
Lewis-Williams, these formerly elusive links are now readily
recognisable (Vinnicombe 2001: 1).
As Vinnicombe implies, the 'religious', or
'shamanistic', explanation is not a vague, blanket hypothesis.
Researchers have shown repeatedly that the multiple fit between the
ethnographic hypothesis and the detailed and very specific rock art
imagery is inescapable. Even without recourse to nineteenth-century
records, the depictions of trance dances are evidence in themselves.
Indeed, gainsayers, who are usually not themselves hands-on rock art
researchers, have been unable to show any other fit that is anywhere as
comprehensive or, more importantly, precisely explanatory. It is all
very well to speak about myth: actually demonstrating the relationship
between mythical narratives and specific images has never been done (for
detailed accounts of how San myth works see, for instance, Biesele 1993;
Lewis-Williams 1996, 1997, 2013).
Recognition of specific painted features as indicative of
shamanistic belief, ritual and experience is only the start, the
foundation, of our enquiry. It does not close off exploration of further
meanings, as some critics mistakenly assume. Nor does the art simply and
passively 'illustrate' those beliefs, rituals and experiences.
For instance, there is strong evidence that people touched the images,
possibly to draw potency from them (Lewis-Williams 1986; Yates &
Manhire 1991: 8; Laue 2000: 49).
On the contrary, the images, taken together with the rituals and
beliefs with which they were associated, have long been considered
vehicles for social, gender, political and economic discourse (e.g.
Lewis-Williams 1982, 1998, 2006; Dowson 1994; Stevenson 2000; Blundell
2004; Hays-Gilpin 2004: 168-85; Lewis-Williams & Pearce 2004a &
b). The images were diversely active in San communities. Beyond that, we
recognise that what Megan Biesele (1993: 83-85), in her perceptive
discussion of Ju/'hoan folklore, calls 'metaphors of the
trance dance' permeate San folklore and myth (e.g. Lewis-Williams
1996, 1997, 2013). The art was embedded in a complex of interrelated
media and significances.
Clearly, it is impossible to rehearse here all of the evidence and
arguments that numerous writers have published over the decades, so we
highlight a fundamental point. Much of Solomon's writing is
posited, as is her recent contribution (Solomon 2013), on her belief
that the nineteenth-century southern /Xam San were very different in
highly significant ways from those groups who continue to live in the
Kalahari and who were intensively and famously studied in the second
half of the twentieth century. Solomon suggests that one of us (JDL-W)
has been 'unswerving' in his uncritical acceptance of this
Kalahari material. On the contrary, he has more than once pointed out
that he originally believed that interpretation of southern San rock art
should be based exclusively on the southern nineteenth-century
ethnography and should not have recourse to the Kalahari material
(Lewis-Williams 1975: 414). Growing familiarity with both northern and
southern San ethnography, however, led him to a more realistic, nuanced
and empirically verifiable position: "It is therefore legitimate to
cite the more recent Kalahari ethnography along with the
nineteenth-century sources in specific conceptual areas where
commonalities can be demonstrated' (Lewis-Williams 2013: 3; see
also Lewis-Williams & Biesele 1978; Lewis-Williams 1981, 1992, 2006;
Biesele 1996). The original emphasis in this quotation indicates an
assessment that is very different from the one that Solomon imputes.
Differences are recognised, but they do not cancel out the parallels.
The following observations, all by respected scholars, sum up the
situation.
[R]eligion is far more uniform throughout Bushman and even Khoisan
southern Africa than are material aspects of culture and society
(Barnard 2007: 96).
The trance dance is the central ritual of the Bushman religion and
its defining institution [...] The fact that trance dances are described
by all writers who have visited the Bushmen, even nineteenth-century
ones, further attests to the ubiquity and antiquity of this key Bushman
ritual (Guenther 1999: 181).
The special status some might want to ascribe to the myth and lore
of the [nineteenth-century southern] /Xam Bushmen--for instance,
Schapera (1930: 398) who deemed the southern Bushmen to 'stand
apart from the rest'--is seen to dissolve and the fact that Bushman
expressive and religious culture does indeed constitute one unit
(Guenther 1989:33-36) becomes the more apparent (Guenther 1996: 98).
There is much more in this [nineteenth-century] /Xam fragment
[myth] which can also be elucidated by reference to [twentieth-century
Kalahari] Ju/'hoan oral tradition and ethnography, despite the
intervening years, distances, and linguistic differences (Biesele 1996:
145).
The painted slab recovered from an 1800-year-old deposit at
Collingham Shelter, which shows a shaman with his arms behind his back,
provides evidence that trance dancing has been practised in the
Drakensberg for a long time (Wright & Mazel 2007: 69).
We emphasise that the conclusions of Barnard, Guenther and Biesele
come out of long, firsthand study of the San and, importantly, a good
knowledge of San languages. The southern San did indeed practise trance
dancing, although given the disintegrating small groups to which they
were reduced in the mid and late nineteenth century, they probably
performed them less frequently than the northern people still do. They
probably relied increasingly on 'special curings' that
involved only a small number of people but were founded on the same
beliefs and experiences. Dreams, too, played a role in supernatural
contact (Lewis-Williams 1987, 2013).
Trying to move away from an essentially religious/ritual view,
Solomon (2008) has argued that mythology played a larger role in the
making of San rock art than what we could broadly call 'contact
with the supernatural'. Her position, which she has never spelled
out in any comprehensive detail, is impossible to accept. Writers have
in fact pointed out that this old idea simply does not fit the images:
the personnel of the two media largely differ (Deacon 1994, 2001;
Guenther 1994; Hays-Gilpin 2004: 178). No convincing parallels between
specific San myths and rock art can be, or indeed ever have been,
demonstrated by Solomon or anyone else. The rain-animal that San shamans
captured in the spirit realm to kill and thus make rain does appear in a
myth in which it/he carries off a maiden (Bleek & Lloyd 1911:
193-99). Paintings, however, show not this action but rather people,
some of whom often bleed from the nose as southern San shamans did,
driving a rain-animal and attempting to kill it (Lewis-Williams &
Pearce 2004a: 139-40, 143-45, fig. 7.4). Knowledge of the actual images
again refutes Solomon's view.
The relationship between myth and rock art is more fundamental and,
at the same time, elusive and subtle: both draw on a reservoir of
metaphors, of which many researchers seem unaware (Lewis-Williams &
Loubser 1986). The 'mythological' interpretation, supported by
Solomon, remains a free-floating notion that does not connect
mythological narratives with the imagery (Lewis-Williams 2006: 105-108).
Familiarity with the images in, literally, hundreds of rockshelters,
leads to a different conclusion. Some writers appear to deem rock art
fieldwork on such a scale unnecessary; in its place, they depend on the
comparatively few images that have appeared in other researchers'
publications.
Responding to many writers' views of the frenzied dances that
Thomas Arbousset and Francois Daumas (1846) and Joseph Orpen (1874)
recorded in the Maloti mountains, Solomon (2013: 1211) claims that the
"frenzied behaviour is not that of a Kalahari-style trance induced
to heal". The dances described by the nineteenth-century writers,
she says, were 'spirit possession' dances. There is no
evidence for this. On the contrary, Guenther, who has much first-hand
experience of the Kalahari Nharo San, comments: "Arbousset and
Orpen, in the 1840s and the 1870s, described a nightlong
'circular' dance in which dancers collapse and cure by
touching the sick with hands they have put under their armpits"
(Guenther 1999: 181-82). He adds:
All this sounds very much like the trance dance as it is performed
by contemporary Kalahari Bushmen (although the earlier dance contained
additional elements evidently not found in the later versions, such as
the use of charms and the equal participation and trance collapse of
women) (Guenther 1999: 182).
The differences are interesting, but they do not negate the
demonstrable similarities. Guenther's insight cannot be lightly
discounted. Indeed, numerous writers have noticed the parallels between
the nineteenth-century descriptions and the Kalahari dances.
All ethnographers have shown that the Kalahari San healers, many of
whom behave in an extremely frenzied fashion, try to control their level
of trance so that, trembling, they can eventually move around and heal
by the laying on of hands. Nevertheless, violent trance is a prominent
characteristic of the dance. Yet Solomon writes: "Those who behaved
wildly and bled nasally were not healers, but those who succumbed to the
spirits" (Solomon 2013: 1211). Again, there is no evidence for this
assertion. A few explicit quotations from Lorna Marshall's
first-hand work will suffice to set the matter in context:
A medicine man begins with rapid, grasping grunts [...] The more
violent the frenzied behaviour, or the deeper the withdrawal from
consciousness, the stronger the n/um [potency] is believed to be, and
the trance is more valued [...] He may stagger around and lurch into the
fire, trample on the women, fall headlong into their circle, somersault
over them, or crash full-length onto the ground and lie there, rigid as
a stick (Marshall 1969: 370, 373, 376).
Behaviour of this kind is described by all of the researchers who
have witnessed San trance dances. It is impossible to deny what they
have to say. Further, multiple parallels between the distinctly painted
dancing and clapping postures and the postures characteristic of the
Kalahari dances are clear. To take but one instance, in a discussion of
trance dancing during the 1970s, a Ju/'hoan man, who had not seen
copies of paintings of dancers in the distinctive and widely depicted
arms-back position, rose and demonstrated that posture. He explained to
Biesele and one of us (JDL-W) that Ju/'hoan shamans adopt this
posture "when n/um is going into your body, when you are asking God
for n/um [supernatural potency]" (Lewis-Williams 1981: 88). In
addition, the images show animal transformations and other non-real
manifestations (e.g. sickness being expelled from the n//au spot at the
back of the neck) that Kalahari dancers describe as being visible to
them but not to ordinary people. Solomon claims that nasal bleeding,
often depicted, "more plausibly [...] signifies the imminence of
actual 'death' (by lethal possession)" (Solomon 2013:
1211). Again, there is no ethnographic evidence for this belief.
Readers are urged to consult the original nineteenth- and
twentieth-century ethnographic sources rather than other writers'
recensions of them. Summaries of the complex evidence for a connection
between, on the one hand, northern and southern San religious belief,
ritual and experience and, on the other, the images of southern San rock
art can be found in numerous books and articles (e.g. Lewis-Williams
2003; Lewis-Williams & Pearce 2004a; Lewis-Williams & Challis
2011). The time has come to move on from repetitive, personally directed
debate and to embrace well-founded studies of the ethnography and,
equally, of the images themselves. Only then shall we be able to
appreciate the complexity and subtlety of the web of San thought and
art.
doi: 10.15184/aqy.2014.51
References
ARBOUSSET, T. & F. DAUMAS. 1846. Narrative of an exploratory
tour to the north-east of the colony of the Cape of Good Hope. Cape
Town: A.S. Robertson.
BARNARD, A. 2007. Anthropology and the Bushman. Oxford: Berg.
BIESELE, M. 1993. Women like meat: the folklore and foraging
ideology of the Kalahari Ju/hoan. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University
Press.
-- 1996. 'He stealthily lightened at his brother-in-law'
(and thunder echoes in Bushman oral tradition a century later), in J.
Deacon & T.A. Dowson (ed.) Voices from the past: /Xam Bushmen and
the Bleek and Lloyd Collection: 142-60. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand
University Press.
BLEEK, W.H.I. & L.C. LLOYD. 1911. Specimens of Bushman
folklore. London: George Allen.
BLUNDELL, G. 2004. Nqabayo's Nomansland: San rock art and the
somatic past. Uppsala: Uppsala University.
CHALLIS, W. 2003. 'The men with rhebok's heads; they tame
elands and snakes': incorporating the rhebok antelope in the
understanding of southern African rock art. South African Archaeological
Society Goodwin Series 9: 11-20.
DEACON, J. 1994. Rock engravings and the folklore of Bleek and
Lloyd's /Xam San informants, in T.A. Dowson & J.D.
Lewis-Williams (ed.) Contested images: diversity in southern African
rock art research: 257-56. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press.
-- 2001. A /Xam San conundrum: what comes first, the art or the
place?, in K. Helskog (ed.) Theoretical perspectives in rock art
research: 242-50. Oslo: Novus.
DEACON, J. & C. FOSTER. 2005. My heart stands in the hill. Cape
Town: Struik.
DOWSON, T.A. 1992. Rock engravings of southern Africa.
Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press.
-- 1994. Reading art, writing history: rock art and social change
in southern Africa. World Archaeology 25: 332-44.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/00438243. 1994.9980249
EASTWOOD, E. & C. EASTWOOD. 2006. Capturing the spoor: an
exploration of southern African rock art. Cape Town: David Philip.
ELIADE, M. 1964. Shamanism: archaic techniques of ecstasy.
Princeton (NJ): Princeton University Press.
GUENTHER, M. 1989. Bushman folktales: oral traditions of the Nharo
of Botswana and the /Xam of the Cape. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner.
-- 1994. The relationship of Bushman art to ritual and folklore, in
T.A. Dowson & J.D. Lewis-Williams (ed.) Contested images: diversity
in southern African rock art research: 257-74. Johannesburg:
Witwatersrand University Press.
-- 1996. Attempting to contextualise /Xam oral tradition, in J.
Deacon & T.A. Dowson (ed.) Voices from the past: IXam Bushmen and
the Bleek and Lloyd Collection: 77-99. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand
University Press.
-- 1999. Tricksters and trancen: Bushman religion and society.
Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
HAMPSON, J. 2013. The materiality of rock art and quartz: a case
study from Mpumalanga Province, South Africa. Cambridge Archaeological
Journal 23: 363-72. http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/ S0959774313000498
HAYS-GILPIN, K.A. 2004. Ambiguous images: gender and rock art.
Walnut Creek (CA): Altamira.
HOLLMAN, J.C. 2002. Natural models, ethology and San
rock-paintings: pilo-erection and depictions of bristles in
south-eastern South Africa. South African Journal of Science 98: 563-67.
-- 2013. Exploring the Gestoptefontein-Driekuil complex (GDC): an
ancient women's ceremonial centre in the North West Province, South
Africa. South African Archaeological Bulletin 68: 146-59.
HUFFMAN, T.N. 1983. The trance hypothesis and the rock art of
Zimbabwe. South African Archaeological Society Goodwin Series 4: 49-53.
LAUE, G.B. 2000. Taking a stance: posture and meaning in the rock
art of the Waterberg, Northern Province, South Africa. Unpublished MSc
dissertation: University of the Witwatersrand.
LEE, R.B. 1967. Trance cure of the !Kung Bushmen. Natural History
78(40): 14-22.
-- 1993. The Do be Ju/'hoansi. New York: Harcourt Brace.
Lewis-Williams, J.D. 1975. The Drakensberg rock paintings as an
expression of religious thought, in E. Anati (ed.) Les religions de la
prehistoire: 413-26. Capo di Ponte: Centro Camuno di Studi Preistorici.
-- 1981. Believing and seeing: symbolic meanings in southern San
rock paintings. London: Academic Press.
-- 1982. The economic and social context of southern San rock art.
Current Anthropology 23: 429-49. http://dx.doi.org/10.1086/202871
-- 1986. The last testament of the southern San. South African
Archaeological Bulletin 41: 10-11. http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/3887711
-- 1987. A dream of eland: an unexplored component of San shamanism
and rock art. World Archaeology 19: 165-77.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/00438243. 1987.9980032
-- 1992. Ethnographic evidence relating to 'trance' and
'shamans' among northern and southern Bushmen. South African
Archaeological Bulletin 47: 56-60. http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/3888993
-- 1996. A visit to the lion's house: the structure, metaphors
and socio-political significance of a nineteenth-century Bushman myth,
in J. Deacon & T.A. Dowson (ed.) Voices from the past: /Xam Bushmen
and the Bleek and Lloyd Collection: 122-41. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand
University Press.
-- 1997. The Mantis, the Eland and the Meerkats: conflict and
mediation in a nineteenth-century San myth, in P. McAllister (ed.)
Culture and the commonplace: anthropological essays in honour of David
Hammond- Tooke: 195-216. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press.
-- 1998. Quanto? The issue of 'many meanings' in southern
African San rock art research. South African Archaeological Bulletin 53:
86-97. http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/3889183
-- 2003. Images of mystery: rock art of the Drakensberg. Cape Town:
Double Storey.
-- 2006. Debating rock art: myth and ritual, theories and facts.
South African Archaeological Bulletin 61 : 105-14.
-- 2013. From illustration to social intervention: three
nineteenth-century /Xam myths and their implications for understanding
San rock art. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 23: 241-62.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/S0959774313000401
LEWIS-WILLIAMS, J.D. & M. BIESELE. 1978. Eland hunting rituals
among northern and southern San groups: striking similarities. Africa
48: 117-34. http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/1158603
LEWIS-WILLIAMS, J.D. & S. CHALLIS. 2011. Deciphering ancient
minds: the mystery of San Bushman rock art. London: Thames & Hudson.
LEWIS-WILLIAMS, J.D. & J.H.N. LOUBSER. 1986. Deceptive
appearances: a critique of southern African rock art studies. Advances
in World Archaeology 5: 253-89.
LEWIS-WILLIAMS, J.D. & D.G. PEARCE. 2004a. San spirituality:
roots, expressions, and social consequences. Walnut Creek (CA):
Altamira.
-- 2004b. Southern African rock paintings as social intervention: a
study of rain-control images. African Archaeological Review 21: 199-228.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/s10437-004-0749-2
-- 2012. The southern San and the trance dance: a pivotal debate in
the interpretation of San rock paintings. Antiquity 86: 696-706.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/S0003598X00047852
LOUBSER, J.H.N. 2006. Rock art, physical setting, and ethnographic
context: a comparative perspective, in J.D. Keyser, G. Poetschat &
M.W. Taylor (ed.) Talking with the past: the ethnography of rock art.
225-53. Portland: Oregon Archaeological Society.
MARSHALL, L. 1969. The medicine dance of the !Kung Bushmen. Africa
39: 347-81. http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/1157382
MAZEL, A. 2009. Unsettled times: shaded polychrome paintings and
hunter-gatherer history in the south-eastern mountains of southern
Africa. Southern African Humanities 21: 85-115.
Mguni, S. 2004. Cultured representation: understanding
'formlings', an enigmatic motif in the rock-art of Zimbabwe.
Journal of Social Archaeology 4: 181-99. http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/
1469605304041074
ORPEN, J.M. 1874. A glimpse into the mythology of the Maluti
Bushmen. Cape Monthly Magazine (n.s.) 9(49): 1-13.
SCHAAFSMA, P. 2013. Images and power: rock art and ethics. New
York: Springer. http://dx.doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4614-5822-7
SCHAPERA, I. 1930. The Khoisan peoples of South Africa. London:
Routledge & Kegan Paul.
SMITH, B.W. & S. OUZMAN. 2004. Taking stock: identifying
Khoekhoen herder rock art in southern Africa. Current Anthropology 45:
499-526. http://dx.doi.org/10.1086/422081
SMITS, L.G.A. 1993. Rock paintings in Lesotho: form analysis of
subject matter in Ha Baroana, in M. Lorblanchet & P.G. Bahn (ed.)
Rock art studies: the post-stylistic era, or where do we go from here?:
127-42. Oxford: Oxbow.
SOLOMON, A. 2008. Myths, making and consciousness: dynamics and
differences in San rock arts. Current Anthropology 49: 59-76.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1086/ 523677
-- 2013. The death of trance: recent perspectives on San
ethnographies and rock arts. Antiquity 87: 1208-13.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/S0003598X00049978
STEVENSON, J. 2000. Shaman images in San rock art: a question of
gender, in M. Donald & L. Hurcombe (ed.) Representations of gender
from prehistory to present. 45-66. London: Macmillan.
VINNICOMBE, P. 1976. People of the eland: rock paintings of the
Drakensberg Bushmen as a reflection of their life and thought.
Pietermaritzburg: University of Natal Press.
-- 2001. Forty-odd years down the track. The Digging Stick 18(2):
1-2.
VITEBSKY, P. 1995. The shaman: voyages of the soul, trance, ecstasy
and healing from Siberia to the Amazon. London: Macmillan.
WALKER, N. 1996. The painted hills: rock art of the Matopos. Gweru:
Mambo.
WHITLEY, D.S. 2006. Is there a shamanism and rock art debate?
Before Farming 4: article 1.
WRIGHT, J. & A. MAZEL. 2007. Tracks in a mountain range:
exploring the history of the uKhahlamba-Drakensberg. Johannesburg:
Witwatersrand University Press.
YATES, R. & A. MANHIRE. 1991. Shamanism and rock paintings:
aspects of the use of rock art in the south-western Cape, South Africa.
South African Archaeological Bulletin 46: 3-11.
http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/3889007
YATES, R., J. GOLSON & M. HALL. 1985. Trance performance: the
rock art of Boontjieskloof and Sevilla. South African Archaeological
Bulletin 40: 70-80. http://dx.doi.org/10.2307/ 3888450
Received: 5 March 2014; Accepted: 13 May 2014; Revised: 8 October
2014
J. David Lewis-Williams & David G. Pearce *
* Rock Art Research Institute, School of Geography, Archaeology and
Environmental Studies, University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg
2050, South Africa (Email:
[email protected])