ent change en route. To a dead lame
sorcerer from the Infinite is a fall indeed. The process of the decline
is thus described. Tsui Goab is composed of two roots, tsu and goa. Goa
means 'to go on,' 'to come on.' In Khoi Khoi goa-b means 'the coming on
one,' the dawn, and goa-b also means 'the knee.' Dr. Hahn next writes
(making a logical leap of extraordinary width), 'it is now obvious that,
//goab in Tsui Goab cannot be translated with knee,'--why not?--'but we
have to adopt the other metaphorical meaning, the _approaching_ day, i.e.
the dawn.' Where is the necessity? In ordinary philology, we should
here demand a number of attested examples of goab, in the sense of dawn,
but in Khoi Khoi we cannot expect such evidence, as there are probably no
texts. Next, after arbitrarily deciding that all Khoi Khois
misunderstand their own tongue (for that is what the rendering here of
goab by 'dawn' comes to), Dr. Hahn examines tsu, in Tsui. Tsu means
'sore,' 'wounded,' 'painful,' as in 'wounded knee'--Tsui Goab. This does
not help Dr Hahn, for 'wounded dawn' means nothing. But he reflects that
a wound is red, tsu means wounded: therefore tsu means red, therefore
Tsui Goab is the Red Dawn. Q.E.D.

This kind of reasoning is obviously fallacious. Dr. Hahn's point could
only be made by bringing forward examples in which tsu is employed to
mean red in Khoi Khoi. Of this use of the word tsu he does not give one
single instance, though on this point his argument depends. His
etymology is not strengthened by the fact that Tsui Goab has once been
said to live in the red sky. A red house is not necessarily tenanted by
a red man. Still less is the theory supported by the hymn which says
Tsui Goab paints himself with red ochre. Most idols, from those of the
Samoyeds to the Greek images of Dionysus, are and have been daubed with
red. By such reasoning is Tsui Goab proved to be the Red Dawn, while his
gifts of prophecy (which he shares with all soothsayers) are accounted
for as attributes of dawn, of the Vedic Saranyu.

Turning from Tsui Goab to his old enemy Gaunab, we learn that his name is
derived from //gau, 'to destroy,' and, according to old Hottentot ideas,
'no one was the destroyer but the night' (p. 126). There is no apparent
reason why the destroyer should be the night, and the night alone, any
more than why 'a lame broken knee' should be 'red' (p. 126). Besides (p.
85), Gaunab is elsewhere explained, not as the