Chapter Six.

Chapter Six.The Bechuana family—Their division into tribes—Their past and present condition.That portion of Bechuanaland between the territory belonging to the chief Montsoia, which is on the north, and Griqualand West, is occupied by several chiefs belonging to this family. Monkuruan claims to be the paramount chief over many of them, others claim their independence. When the British Government annexed the Diamond-Fields, they acknowledged this chief to be the head of the Bechuanas over all that country. Previous to that time, Mahura, uncle to Monkuruan, ruled; at his death his nephew became chief, and lived at his chief town, situated on one of the spurs of the Campbell Rantz, called Taung, or Toane, a large Kaffir station, close to a small branch of the Harts river, above its junction, containing a population, at the time I first visited the country, under 2000. Monkuruan and his people belong to the Batlapin tribe of the Bechuana family. He has several large kraals, where his people live. Another chief, Botlatsitsi, son of the old chief Gasebone, lives at Phokwane, about eighteen miles from Taung, on the south side of Harts river. He and his people belong to the same tribe as Monkuruan.The town, or kraal, is very pleasantly situated amongst the hills, which are thickly covered with low underwood. The other petty captains, living within the country first described, are Moshette, of the Baralong tribe, who, with his people, live about nine miles from Taung, at Kunanna; the chief Matlabane, of the Bamairi branch of the Batlapiu tribe, whose kraal is six miles from Taung, on the hills about it.The chief Matlibe and his people live at Taung, and they are of the Batlapin tribe also. The petty captain, Jantze, of the Batlapin, previous to the annexation of the Diamond-Fields, lived at a large kraal, Lekatlong, on the banks of the Harts river, near its junction with the Vaal, but afterwards he removed, with his people, to Myneering, about thirty miles south of Kuruman. Young Gasebone lived at Dekong, on the same branch as that passing Taung, which I recollect perfectly well, for he stole out of my waggon thirty pounds of coffee, on my third visit there, in 1869, and then politely offered to drive my waggon through a very stony drift on my leaving his station. At Kuruman is Moshette. At Bakelaris, which is eighteen miles on the north from Kuruman, is the chief Barhakie, and brother to Moshette. To the north, eighty miles from Bakelaris, is Morequerne, where there are three petty captains, Makobie, Makutse, and Marketchwar, an old blind man; his people told me he was more than 100 years old, but they did not understand age; he died shortly afterwards.Eighteen miles to the north-west of Morequerne is Conge, another large station, which is on the border of the Kalahara desert; and to the west, and south, towards Kuruman, is the kraal at Mynyam, near Honey Vlei, a large sheet of water. Cooe station is to the west of the Vlei, but near it, forty miles south, is Tsinin station; Comopere twelve miles south of the last, and twelve miles west of Bakclaris. On the east again we come to several kraals—Matetong, Kopong, and Tokong are the principal. There are many others of less note, all with their head-men. On the west of Kurutnan, under the Langberg range of mountains, are Gamapoope, Molanwan, Kamasap, Puruhulu, Tuten, Lukin, and Zitburn. One of the chiefs is Tatu. Consequently, all this part of the country is thickly populated by the Bechuana family, all under petty chiefs and captains.South of Kuruman is Kobis, Koning, Myneering, and Marseipa, and with their outlying posts for cattle, sheep, and bucks, make it an important and valuable region for the British Government to protect and secure from foreign invasion, as it is contiguous to Griqualand West along the whole of its northern border. The extent of this portion of Bechuanaland above-named, south of the chief Montsioa territory, is from the Transvaal on the east to Langberg on the west—200 miles by nearly 200 north and south, or 40,000 square miles. And when I first knew the country, twenty years ago, it was nearly unknown to the white man, except the missionaries, who had their stations at Kuruman, Lekatlong, Bakclaris, and Matetong, and some half-dozen traders passing through Kuruman, from Hope Town, in the Cape Colony, to the Bechuana chiefs living to the north. This little-known region then was one of the most pleasant and agreeable parts of Africa to visit and explore. The natives, more particularly at Kuruman and those to the north, were most friendly and kind. Like all native tribes, they do not forget to beg of the white man. Down towards the south, in Mahura’s time, the people were troublesome, and much less civil in their behaviour to strangers. I think I experienced more annoyance because they took me to be a Boer, noting down all their watering-places, and on one occasion I was in great danger in consequence. Skins well-brayed was the only material for their clothes; the men had long cloaks, which, when thrown over the shoulders, reached the ground. The women had short wrappers round their loins, hanging down behind and very scanty in front; in cold weather they also had leather mantles. But at the present time they have to a great extent adopted the European mode of dress, and deal extensively in almost every kind of English merchandise.From cultivating little or no corn, which was the woman’s work, they now go in extensively for ploughs, which the men use, and instead of growing mealies, which is maize or Indian corn, and a few melons, they now produce wheat, barley, and oats, which they grow in their beautiful valleys and sell to traders for English goods, and in addition they breed herds of cattle, goats and sheep. Many of the men buy the best English clothing, and some of the women, particularly the young ones, indulge in cotton prints and even silk for their dresses, and are very proud if they can obtain stylish boots.The schools also have greatly improved the people. The advance in civilisation within the last twenty years has been remarkable. They are, as a people, timid and for from being fond of war. Their language is Sechuanse, which is soft and pleasant to the ear. They have natural mechanical talent, and make good carpenters, smiths, and masons. Their houses show great ingenuity in their construction, particularly in the formation and design of their granaries for storing their winter corn, which are quite artistic in form. Many of these are built up in the centre of a large hut made of clay, shaped like our water-bottles, in diameter ten feet in the largest part, gradually reduced in size to three feet at the top, total height ten feet, which will hold many hundred bushels of corn. No mice, snakes, or other animal can get in to destroy the grain. A store is kept separate for each family, quite distinct from their living huts.They are very expert in metal, melting the ore for the manufacture of ornaments, assagais, Kaffir picks, and such things as they require. They also make very neat mantles, karosses and other kinds of materials for the women, the men being the tailors and dressmakers for the tribe. Time being no object, their work is beautifully executed, as may be seen from the karosses brought to England; many of them sold as high as ten pounds. They are also very fond of music; they make various kinds of instruments which produce pleasing sounds. The young men form themselves into bands to the number of twenty to thirty, called the reed band—reeds from six to eight feet in length with holes similar to the flute, but held upright in front of each musician—forming a circle like our military bands, and perform tunes. The women and children walk round on the outside singing and clapping hands in time to the music. This performance generally begins about sundown, and is kept up for several hours.The interior of their huts and yards outside where they cook, which are surrounded by a high fence made of sticks, are kept remarkably clean and tidy, and their iron utensils also receive their share of attention. Many of these Bechuanas are rich in cattle, sheep, and goats. They have their cattle-posts away in the bush, where the stock is looked after, cows milked, and once or twice a week a pack-ox is loaded up with skins of milk and taken to the kraal for use. These “vieh-posts” are in charge of their slaves, called Vaalpans. They are the Bushmen of the country kept in subjection by the Bechuana tribe, and are a very harmless and quiet people, the only drawback to their liberty being they cannot leave their masters’ service; otherwise they have full liberty of action. They are of a darker colour and different in form to the Cape Bushmen.The Bechuanas throughout South Central Africa possess waggons, and have spans of oxen and everything complete like the colonists, and go trading with English goods amongst their neighbours like any white trader. They also bring down from their homes, wood, corn, and vegetables for sale to the Diamond-Fields, and are far more beneficial and useful in the country than the Boers. They are outstepping them in civilisation, and if they had white skins, would be looked upon as a superior race. They have been kept down for want of opportunity to rise above their present condition. This extensive race, as I have already stated, extends from the Cape Colony to the Zambese, throughout the whole of Bechuanaland, and are in habit and customs the same wherever they live, the same language and its dialects.The females, like all other nations of the world, have their fashions, and vary according to the country in which they live. Some of the young girls shave all the wool from their heads except on the crown, leaving about three inches in diameter, which they anoint with red clay, plumbago, and grease, giving a very sparkling and shining appearance to it that is very becoming, and even makes the young girls look pretty, as many of them at that age have a pleasing and intellectual expression; their short kilt is so arranged that the upper and lower borders should have the white fringe of hair of the springbok skin to look like a border of deep lace, which against the light rich brown hair of the other part is very becoming, and sets the figure off to great advantage. They quite understand being complimented upon their good looks, and can carry on a flirtation with admirable tact. Where this is more perceptible, is far away from the demoralising influence of other tribes who have come in contact with the Boers and other white people. The more isolated they are from such influence, the more I have always found them respectful in their manner to strangers. I am referring to the Bechuana family in general.The principal roads through this part of the country to the interior pass through Hope Town in the Cape Colony to Kuruman, the mission station where the Rev. Robert Moffat spent forty-five years of his life in missionary labour, which station has been largely increased by the addition of an extensive college erected of late years at a great expense for the teaching of native youths for missionary purposes. The site is admirably situated, having an unlimited supply of the purest water from a spring some few miles above the station, which issues from a cave in the side of the hill in a picturesque locality. The mission houses and church of the London Missionary Society are substantial and well-built, and have fine gardens well stocked with fruit trees, and the orange and lemon grow to great perfection. Mr Chapman, who has a large store, takes great interest in his garden, and grows every kind of vegetable known in England. Twenty years ago there were several stores; three at Upper Kuruman, about a mile from the mission station.The bold outline of the lofty range of hills at the back of Kuruman, distant some six miles, adds greatly to the beauty of the adjoining country, which is undulating and well-wooded, with open plains and Kaffir gardens, and is one of the most healthy parts of South Central Africa. The roads from Kuruman branch off in every direction to the several natives’ towns. The main transport road from Kuruman and Diamond-Fields goes to Maceby Station on the Molapo, in the chief Montsoia territory, and very pretty roads to travel over. On leaving the station there are several small kraals on the road to Kopong, which is a large native town situated on the Matlarin, a tributary of the Kuruman river, which latter flows past Bakclaris, and then south, past Comopere, from thence through a wild uninhabited country for 180 miles, where it joins the Hygap river, which is the lower portion of the Molapo. The main road continues on from Kopong, through a fine forest of kameel-doorn trees for many miles, then enters upon open veldt, passing little and great brack-pans to the Setlakoole and Moretsane rivers, then bush again to Maceby’s station Pitsan; the distance between Kuruman and that town is 154 miles. Several roads branch off from it to different parts; one goes to Melemas on the Molapo, another to Marico, and also others to Monkuruan’s at Taungs. Maamuosa, where the Koranna Captain Moshoen and his people live, a bad and wicked tribe, who have been helping the Boers lately to make war on Monkuruan, and whose land the Boers have taken from him. The principal main transport road from the Cape Colony and Diamond-Fields runs direct to Taungs in a north-east direction to Maceby’s and then north, which has by the late Convention with the Transvaal been preserved. There are no very lofty hills in this part of Bechuanaland. The principal ones are those at Kuruman, those near Taungs and Swaatberg. The average elevation is about 4600 feet above the sea-level. The northern portion is more open, extensive plains and forests of the mimosa tree; and has many brack-pans, where in the summer wild geese and ducks come in great numbers.The game when I first travelled through these parts swarmed on the open flats. Blesbok and springbok, hartebeest, quaggas, gnus or wildebeest, the black and the blue; the latter is a much finer animal, the skin is also of more value. The koodoo is found in the hills. Then there are several other antelopes, such as the steinbok, found all over Africa. These at the time I state, if it were possible to count them, would exceed 100,000 to be seen from the waggon at one time, a complete forest of horns, and as they feed off the grass until it is too short, they move away to another district. Of course lions, wolves, and jackals were very numerous and kept up their howls all night. The wild dog (Hyena venatica) could be seen in packs of several hundred, crossing the plains in pursuit of game—they are a pretty animal with large rounded ears, large bushy tail, whitish face, long black and white hair, tall and slender. They always hunt in packs. On one of my journeys, having to cross these plains, I came upon several hundred of them in one of the slight hollows. On nearing them, for the road ran directly past where they had been having a grand feast off springbok, as remains of them were still unconsumed, some of them were lying in the road I was travelling, and would hardly get out of my way, others stood looking as we passed between them. Fortunately they had been having their meal, otherwise I think my span of oxen would have fared badly, for there must have been over 300. With so many making an attack on a span of oxen, guns would have been of little use, if they were hungry. I have often seen forty and fifty in a pack in full cry, after blesbok or springbok, and a beautiful sight it is. Wolves also were seen, seven and eight together.At a small pan on these plains, in a hollow, with high reeds surrounding it, I, one afternoon, outspanned, intending to remain there the night, as there was an extensive pan near, with very steep banks down to it, where I intended, the next day, to look for ancient implements, as I had previously found some there before. I sent one of my Kaffir boys down to this pan, only a short distance from the waggon, for water. He was very quickly back, looking quite scared, and cried out there were wolves in the pan.Our rifles were soon out of the waggon, and cartridges for a few shots if necessary. I started with my Bushman and Hottentot driver, all armed. As he said, the pan seemed full of them; when within fifty yards, some of the wolves broke cover and were making for some bushes; two were shot, others escaped at the sound of our rifles. We could see them moving about in the long reeds, and fired at every opportunity, killing in all seven; four of them were the largest I had ever seen; their heads were immense, and between the ears measured seven inches. They are large and powerful animals, but great cowards. Lions would be heard nightly round the waggon, whenever I outspanned in one particular district near the Moretsane or Setlakoole rivers, which seemed a favourite resort for them.All this state of things has passed away. The game has been shot and driven away more into the desert, wolves nearly all poisoned, and in crossing any of those extensive plains and open flats, a few hundred may be counted, where before tens of thousands covered the veldt in all directions. Then it was a great pleasure to travel through the country for sport alone, in addition to the enjoyment of passing through a beautiful country teeming with game. At the present time, to go over the same ground with not a living thing to be seen, it becomes monotonous. Close to that pretty isolated hill, Swaatberg, are the ruins of a very ancient town, Kunam: whether built by Kaffirs or the race that built the other stone huts, mentioned in a previous chapter, there is no history to prove. There are many strange tales handed down to the present generation of its being one large town, the seat of a powerful chief, and of some great battles having been fought there. The ruins indicate it to have been at some remote period a large town. Near it are extensive pans, that at one time must have held water to a great depth, as the banks and cliffs clearly prove; now only in the summer months water is found in them. Not far from them there are some dried-up springs, the water of which was conveyed away by a sluit passing into the Moretsane.One day we had fixed our camp at a very pretty spot close to some fine trees and bush, had made all fast for the night, and were sitting by the fire before going to bed, the Kaffir boys having their supper, when we were startled by a rush of large animals passing close to our camp-fires, on both sides of us. The night being very dark, we could only distinguish, by the light from our fire, that an immense herd of blesbok was amongst us. We had our rifles in hand in a moment and fired into a dense mass of them. When they passed away we found three dead upon the ground. My Hottentot and boys ran to bring them in, when a solitary blesbok rushed up to the fire and there stood quite exhausted, and some thirty yards in the rear were several animals moving about, but I could not distinguish, from the flickering light, if wolves or wild dogs, that had chased the poor animal until it could run no more. We all ran out with our rifles, but with caution, in case any lions might be amongst them. As they did not go away, evidently exhausted also with the long chase, we had a good chance of getting some, and succeeded in killing two. The others in the mean time made off. Lighting the lantern to bring them in, we found them to be very fine and powerful wild dogs. By this time the blesbok had recovered from the hard run, and took himself off. My driver wanted to kill him, but I said, “No; he sought our protection, and he shall have it.” It is wonderful they should seek man’s protection when all other hope of self-preservation seems gone. I have known small birds fly to my waggon and into it, on several occasions when pursued by hawks. This is more than instinct; there is some reasoning power in animals when they seek shelter from foes where they know they will not follow them. Foxes we know act in the same manner.In the morning, on examining the spoor, there must have been many wild dogs engaged in the chase, but they were stopped at the sight of the two fires and waggons, and our shots at the blesbok as they passed us. In the small grove of trees under which our camp was pitched, we founded several very large chameleons measuring fifteen inches in length. We discovered them by hearing a noise on one of the branches, caused by a fight between two of the largest, which we caught, but gave them their liberty before leaving. I also, during my explorations, made a collection of many kinds of the mantis family, commonly called in Africa, Hottentot gods, as they always appear to be praying, having their two arms held as if in that act; their four legs are used for locomotion. They feed themselves with their hands. I made a collection of forty-seven different kinds, those with wings and those wingless, both kinds having well-developed bodies. Then there is a third kind without bodies, called walking-sticks, each kind having four legs, two arms and hands. I made twenty-two collections of the winged; the largest measured eleven inches in length, brown bodies and lovely purple wings, two on each side, two horns on the head a little over an inch in length, large eyes, with a mouth similar to a wasp’s, with flat head and neck four inches in length, from the lower part of which the two arms spring. The four legs were fixed in the centre of the body; the smallest size with wings measured one and a half inches in length; each size differed somewhat in shape. I put one of these, which measured six inches, green on the back and yellow underneath, with silvery wings, into a paper-collar box. One afternoon, on looking at it half an hour afterwards, I found it had woven a nest on to the side, composed of silky and light-brown material, and the insect appeared quite dead or in a torpid state. Putting the box away, I forgot to look at it for several months; when I opened the box I found upwards of 200 young ones, all dead, each about one-eighth of an inch in length. The greater portion of my specimens I caught in my waggon at night when my candle was burning and my fore-sail up, being like the moths attracted by the light. The wingless ones I found on bushes or in the grass. The third kind, the walking-stick, I always found in the grass. The first time I caught one was when I was collecting some beetles. I saw, as I thought, a piece of live grass moving along. Sitting down on the ground to watch it, I found it had four legs, which moved very slowly, and two in front that stuck straight out in line with the body. Carefully observing its movements, I saw at once it was a very strange kind of insect. Taking a piece of grass to lift it from the ground, the thing showed fight at once by raising its head, opening and shutting its mouth, drawing up its two long arms from the straight position, and striking out at the grass I held to its head. The colour was exactly that of the long dry grass in which it was moving—yellow. Length of body and neck, fourteen inches, and the size of a small straw; the legs were very long—five inches; the knee-joint half-way up; the arms had two joints—the regular elbow, and two-thirds of the distance another that doubled up, so that it could pick the food and carry it to its mouth. These again vary in size and colour from one inch in length to the size above described. The female is much larger than the male, which is a light-brown, the former of a sea-green colour. I think the mantis and the trap-door spider the most curious of the insect-world in South Africa. Many specimens of moths I collected in my waggon after dark, some of them very beautiful; the larger kinds I mostly found in the long grass on the plains.Butterflies were very plentiful in some parts, in others rarely any would be seen; each locality had its peculiar species. The wasps also amused me when standing in any particular locality for some time; the large black with purple wings was a constant visitor. When about making a nest to lay their eggs, they would fly into my waggon, examine every part minutely, and after fixing upon a particular corner, would fly away and return with a ball of mud the size of a pea, and commence to plaster the side of the waggon fixed upon. This would go on for two or three days, the two wasps, male and female, bringing in these little balls of mud, going and returning every minute until it was completed, leaving a little circular hole to each cavity in the clay nest, one-eighth of an inch in diameter when so completed. They would commence with one of the holes, there being five; the female would deposit the eggs, then the two would go out and return with a green caterpillar each, which they would push into the hole containing the eggs, then leave and return with balls of clay, and plaster up the hole so cleverly that it would be impossible to find it from the outside. The same labour was bestowed upon the other compartment of the nest, and when completed would be left for time to bring forth the young. Two other kinds of wasps were of quite a different shape, their slender bodies extended for half an inch, leaving a large egg-shaped ball at the end. These made exactly the same form of nest as the one described. A fourth kind, I noticed, would build their nest in the roofs of buildings; these would be suspended by a thin stem of a glutinous nature, upon which would be fixed from five to twenty cells similar to those of the bee. There have been eight and ten of all these kinds of nests in my waggon at one time, and during the intense heat of the weather, 106 degrees and sometimes 116 degrees in the shade, being too hot to move about, I have amused myself in watching the methodical way in which they so cleverly and beautifully completed their work, and in so short a time. The bees generally make their nests in old hollow trees, which we discovered through the honey-bird leading us to one. When one of these birds wants to attract attention, it soon makes its presence known, and becomes impatient, if not attended to, flying round about with its little twitter and call, which is well known. When it sees you are following it, it flies from branch to branch in a straight line to the nest; when there, it stops, and you soon see the nest. The Kaffir will go fearlessly to work, the bees buzzing about him when taking out the honeycomb, he rarely being stung.The common black crow, with white about the neck, is also a friendly bird, of the same size as our English. They generally come and settle near the outspan, waiting for the camp to break up, then come and look for what may be left. They talk in their throat as well as caw, and can be taught like a parrot to speak. I tamed a young one; he would not sleep in the waggon, but early in the morning he would come and settle on the front part of the waggon, where he could raise the fore-sail to look in. On seeing me in bed he would come in, hop up to my face, take hold of my nose, or have a peck at my beard, look round to examine the things hanging on the sides, then hop out. On my getting up and leaving the waggon he would be seen flying from some tree, and come and settle on my hat or shoulder; if the latter, he would put his head round and rub his beak against my face.There are other crows quite black, more like ravens, but not so large. Another time I was staying at a Boer farm for three weeks to have my waggon repaired; in the early day I walked over to a Boer farm, about a mile from my outspan, to examine some quartz reefs, where I found a few specks of gold on a former journey. At this farm there was a beautiful crane, belonging to old John Nell, the farmer. I tried to make friends by making the same kind of sounds that he kept repeating, but he took no apparent notice. On leaving to walk back to the waggon with my rifle, this crane followed me all the way, keeping about three yards behind, where he remained by my camp a short time, then flew home. Every day after he paid me a visit. One afternoon I took my rifle for a ramble round in the thick bush veldt to look for a waterbok. When about a mile from my waggon I heard a great rush. Looking round I found it was my friend the crane. He settled down in front, then came and walked on my left side, just beyond my reach, keeping close for some distance, then on a sudden he took flight and rose in the air, making long circular sweeps, until he passed behind some small clouds and became again visible, until he was lost in the distance. Thinking no more of him, I continued my walk for half an hour, and was returning home, when the same kind of rush was heard, and looking up I saw him pass close to me, and settle on the ground about thirty yards in front; he then took his place by my side as before, and accompanied me home, and then flew back to the farm. I mention these incidents to show there is something more than instinct in all living things.The country round this part of Monkuruan territory, and in fact all Africa, swarms with every kind of ant, from the smallest size up to three-quarters of an inch in length, each kind having their own peculiar form of nest, more particularly the destructive white ant, which causes so much damage to buildings and furniture; the construction of their nests differs in different latitudes. In the Cape Colony, Natal, Orange Free State, and lower part of the Transvaal, the veldt is covered with these hills, in the shape of a ball cut in halves and placed on the ground; the average size is four feet in diameter by two feet in height; many of them have been scooped out by ant-bears.The Dutch women, in travelling, frequently make use of these holes, by turning them into ovens to bake their bread for the road. More to the north, instead of being round, they form a kind of peak, with holes on the topmost points, some exceeding in height twenty feet. North of this again the ground is raised some two feet by ten to fifteen in diameter. On the centre part chimneys are built up, many exceeding four feet in height, by nearly three feet in circumference; the opening is nearly a foot in diameter, the top terminating in a cup-like form, in three distinct layers, one above the other, forming quite an ornamental termination to the chimney beautifully constructed. On looking down, hundreds of these tiny masons may be seen plastering and repairing the inside coating, which may have received damage from rain. There is always one large chimney, and sometimes one or two smaller ones close to it, and at the base some twenty or thirty small ones, three inches to a foot in height, and three and four inches in diameter, and many small holes round about, where the ants are busy taking in their food, small pieces of dried grass, and other things, never making use of the chimneys as a means for supplying their cells with food. They are, I believe, erected as ventilators to give air below, as the cavity beneath must be as large as a small room, and in some eases larger, as a waggon fell into one. A road had been made near Molapo, over one of these disused nests, and in 1877 a Boer waggon was travelling in the night, as is their usual practice. The front oxen had gone over it, the ground gave way with the after oxen, but they managed to get on firm ground; the weight of the waggon broke the top surface, and only the desselboom on the opposite side getting fixed, kept the two fore-wheels and waggon suspended over the hole, a Boer woman and three children narrowly escaping from falling into the pit. I followed up the next morning, when the Boer and others were getting the waggon mended; bushes were then put round the hole and the road turned. If I had passed over this road before that waggon I should have met the same fate. As a whole, the roads in all parts of Monkuruan territory, and in fact throughout South Central Africa, are very good, considering they are never repaired; many of them rough and stony, but as they are mere natural tracks made by waggons, it is surprising they are in such good condition.The population of this district, including all the various tribes, does not exceed 20,000, exclusive of Bushmen, and they do not number more than 3000.

That portion of Bechuanaland between the territory belonging to the chief Montsoia, which is on the north, and Griqualand West, is occupied by several chiefs belonging to this family. Monkuruan claims to be the paramount chief over many of them, others claim their independence. When the British Government annexed the Diamond-Fields, they acknowledged this chief to be the head of the Bechuanas over all that country. Previous to that time, Mahura, uncle to Monkuruan, ruled; at his death his nephew became chief, and lived at his chief town, situated on one of the spurs of the Campbell Rantz, called Taung, or Toane, a large Kaffir station, close to a small branch of the Harts river, above its junction, containing a population, at the time I first visited the country, under 2000. Monkuruan and his people belong to the Batlapin tribe of the Bechuana family. He has several large kraals, where his people live. Another chief, Botlatsitsi, son of the old chief Gasebone, lives at Phokwane, about eighteen miles from Taung, on the south side of Harts river. He and his people belong to the same tribe as Monkuruan.

The town, or kraal, is very pleasantly situated amongst the hills, which are thickly covered with low underwood. The other petty captains, living within the country first described, are Moshette, of the Baralong tribe, who, with his people, live about nine miles from Taung, at Kunanna; the chief Matlabane, of the Bamairi branch of the Batlapiu tribe, whose kraal is six miles from Taung, on the hills about it.

The chief Matlibe and his people live at Taung, and they are of the Batlapin tribe also. The petty captain, Jantze, of the Batlapin, previous to the annexation of the Diamond-Fields, lived at a large kraal, Lekatlong, on the banks of the Harts river, near its junction with the Vaal, but afterwards he removed, with his people, to Myneering, about thirty miles south of Kuruman. Young Gasebone lived at Dekong, on the same branch as that passing Taung, which I recollect perfectly well, for he stole out of my waggon thirty pounds of coffee, on my third visit there, in 1869, and then politely offered to drive my waggon through a very stony drift on my leaving his station. At Kuruman is Moshette. At Bakelaris, which is eighteen miles on the north from Kuruman, is the chief Barhakie, and brother to Moshette. To the north, eighty miles from Bakelaris, is Morequerne, where there are three petty captains, Makobie, Makutse, and Marketchwar, an old blind man; his people told me he was more than 100 years old, but they did not understand age; he died shortly afterwards.

Eighteen miles to the north-west of Morequerne is Conge, another large station, which is on the border of the Kalahara desert; and to the west, and south, towards Kuruman, is the kraal at Mynyam, near Honey Vlei, a large sheet of water. Cooe station is to the west of the Vlei, but near it, forty miles south, is Tsinin station; Comopere twelve miles south of the last, and twelve miles west of Bakclaris. On the east again we come to several kraals—Matetong, Kopong, and Tokong are the principal. There are many others of less note, all with their head-men. On the west of Kurutnan, under the Langberg range of mountains, are Gamapoope, Molanwan, Kamasap, Puruhulu, Tuten, Lukin, and Zitburn. One of the chiefs is Tatu. Consequently, all this part of the country is thickly populated by the Bechuana family, all under petty chiefs and captains.

South of Kuruman is Kobis, Koning, Myneering, and Marseipa, and with their outlying posts for cattle, sheep, and bucks, make it an important and valuable region for the British Government to protect and secure from foreign invasion, as it is contiguous to Griqualand West along the whole of its northern border. The extent of this portion of Bechuanaland above-named, south of the chief Montsioa territory, is from the Transvaal on the east to Langberg on the west—200 miles by nearly 200 north and south, or 40,000 square miles. And when I first knew the country, twenty years ago, it was nearly unknown to the white man, except the missionaries, who had their stations at Kuruman, Lekatlong, Bakclaris, and Matetong, and some half-dozen traders passing through Kuruman, from Hope Town, in the Cape Colony, to the Bechuana chiefs living to the north. This little-known region then was one of the most pleasant and agreeable parts of Africa to visit and explore. The natives, more particularly at Kuruman and those to the north, were most friendly and kind. Like all native tribes, they do not forget to beg of the white man. Down towards the south, in Mahura’s time, the people were troublesome, and much less civil in their behaviour to strangers. I think I experienced more annoyance because they took me to be a Boer, noting down all their watering-places, and on one occasion I was in great danger in consequence. Skins well-brayed was the only material for their clothes; the men had long cloaks, which, when thrown over the shoulders, reached the ground. The women had short wrappers round their loins, hanging down behind and very scanty in front; in cold weather they also had leather mantles. But at the present time they have to a great extent adopted the European mode of dress, and deal extensively in almost every kind of English merchandise.

From cultivating little or no corn, which was the woman’s work, they now go in extensively for ploughs, which the men use, and instead of growing mealies, which is maize or Indian corn, and a few melons, they now produce wheat, barley, and oats, which they grow in their beautiful valleys and sell to traders for English goods, and in addition they breed herds of cattle, goats and sheep. Many of the men buy the best English clothing, and some of the women, particularly the young ones, indulge in cotton prints and even silk for their dresses, and are very proud if they can obtain stylish boots.

The schools also have greatly improved the people. The advance in civilisation within the last twenty years has been remarkable. They are, as a people, timid and for from being fond of war. Their language is Sechuanse, which is soft and pleasant to the ear. They have natural mechanical talent, and make good carpenters, smiths, and masons. Their houses show great ingenuity in their construction, particularly in the formation and design of their granaries for storing their winter corn, which are quite artistic in form. Many of these are built up in the centre of a large hut made of clay, shaped like our water-bottles, in diameter ten feet in the largest part, gradually reduced in size to three feet at the top, total height ten feet, which will hold many hundred bushels of corn. No mice, snakes, or other animal can get in to destroy the grain. A store is kept separate for each family, quite distinct from their living huts.

They are very expert in metal, melting the ore for the manufacture of ornaments, assagais, Kaffir picks, and such things as they require. They also make very neat mantles, karosses and other kinds of materials for the women, the men being the tailors and dressmakers for the tribe. Time being no object, their work is beautifully executed, as may be seen from the karosses brought to England; many of them sold as high as ten pounds. They are also very fond of music; they make various kinds of instruments which produce pleasing sounds. The young men form themselves into bands to the number of twenty to thirty, called the reed band—reeds from six to eight feet in length with holes similar to the flute, but held upright in front of each musician—forming a circle like our military bands, and perform tunes. The women and children walk round on the outside singing and clapping hands in time to the music. This performance generally begins about sundown, and is kept up for several hours.

The interior of their huts and yards outside where they cook, which are surrounded by a high fence made of sticks, are kept remarkably clean and tidy, and their iron utensils also receive their share of attention. Many of these Bechuanas are rich in cattle, sheep, and goats. They have their cattle-posts away in the bush, where the stock is looked after, cows milked, and once or twice a week a pack-ox is loaded up with skins of milk and taken to the kraal for use. These “vieh-posts” are in charge of their slaves, called Vaalpans. They are the Bushmen of the country kept in subjection by the Bechuana tribe, and are a very harmless and quiet people, the only drawback to their liberty being they cannot leave their masters’ service; otherwise they have full liberty of action. They are of a darker colour and different in form to the Cape Bushmen.

The Bechuanas throughout South Central Africa possess waggons, and have spans of oxen and everything complete like the colonists, and go trading with English goods amongst their neighbours like any white trader. They also bring down from their homes, wood, corn, and vegetables for sale to the Diamond-Fields, and are far more beneficial and useful in the country than the Boers. They are outstepping them in civilisation, and if they had white skins, would be looked upon as a superior race. They have been kept down for want of opportunity to rise above their present condition. This extensive race, as I have already stated, extends from the Cape Colony to the Zambese, throughout the whole of Bechuanaland, and are in habit and customs the same wherever they live, the same language and its dialects.

The females, like all other nations of the world, have their fashions, and vary according to the country in which they live. Some of the young girls shave all the wool from their heads except on the crown, leaving about three inches in diameter, which they anoint with red clay, plumbago, and grease, giving a very sparkling and shining appearance to it that is very becoming, and even makes the young girls look pretty, as many of them at that age have a pleasing and intellectual expression; their short kilt is so arranged that the upper and lower borders should have the white fringe of hair of the springbok skin to look like a border of deep lace, which against the light rich brown hair of the other part is very becoming, and sets the figure off to great advantage. They quite understand being complimented upon their good looks, and can carry on a flirtation with admirable tact. Where this is more perceptible, is far away from the demoralising influence of other tribes who have come in contact with the Boers and other white people. The more isolated they are from such influence, the more I have always found them respectful in their manner to strangers. I am referring to the Bechuana family in general.

The principal roads through this part of the country to the interior pass through Hope Town in the Cape Colony to Kuruman, the mission station where the Rev. Robert Moffat spent forty-five years of his life in missionary labour, which station has been largely increased by the addition of an extensive college erected of late years at a great expense for the teaching of native youths for missionary purposes. The site is admirably situated, having an unlimited supply of the purest water from a spring some few miles above the station, which issues from a cave in the side of the hill in a picturesque locality. The mission houses and church of the London Missionary Society are substantial and well-built, and have fine gardens well stocked with fruit trees, and the orange and lemon grow to great perfection. Mr Chapman, who has a large store, takes great interest in his garden, and grows every kind of vegetable known in England. Twenty years ago there were several stores; three at Upper Kuruman, about a mile from the mission station.

The bold outline of the lofty range of hills at the back of Kuruman, distant some six miles, adds greatly to the beauty of the adjoining country, which is undulating and well-wooded, with open plains and Kaffir gardens, and is one of the most healthy parts of South Central Africa. The roads from Kuruman branch off in every direction to the several natives’ towns. The main transport road from Kuruman and Diamond-Fields goes to Maceby Station on the Molapo, in the chief Montsoia territory, and very pretty roads to travel over. On leaving the station there are several small kraals on the road to Kopong, which is a large native town situated on the Matlarin, a tributary of the Kuruman river, which latter flows past Bakclaris, and then south, past Comopere, from thence through a wild uninhabited country for 180 miles, where it joins the Hygap river, which is the lower portion of the Molapo. The main road continues on from Kopong, through a fine forest of kameel-doorn trees for many miles, then enters upon open veldt, passing little and great brack-pans to the Setlakoole and Moretsane rivers, then bush again to Maceby’s station Pitsan; the distance between Kuruman and that town is 154 miles. Several roads branch off from it to different parts; one goes to Melemas on the Molapo, another to Marico, and also others to Monkuruan’s at Taungs. Maamuosa, where the Koranna Captain Moshoen and his people live, a bad and wicked tribe, who have been helping the Boers lately to make war on Monkuruan, and whose land the Boers have taken from him. The principal main transport road from the Cape Colony and Diamond-Fields runs direct to Taungs in a north-east direction to Maceby’s and then north, which has by the late Convention with the Transvaal been preserved. There are no very lofty hills in this part of Bechuanaland. The principal ones are those at Kuruman, those near Taungs and Swaatberg. The average elevation is about 4600 feet above the sea-level. The northern portion is more open, extensive plains and forests of the mimosa tree; and has many brack-pans, where in the summer wild geese and ducks come in great numbers.

The game when I first travelled through these parts swarmed on the open flats. Blesbok and springbok, hartebeest, quaggas, gnus or wildebeest, the black and the blue; the latter is a much finer animal, the skin is also of more value. The koodoo is found in the hills. Then there are several other antelopes, such as the steinbok, found all over Africa. These at the time I state, if it were possible to count them, would exceed 100,000 to be seen from the waggon at one time, a complete forest of horns, and as they feed off the grass until it is too short, they move away to another district. Of course lions, wolves, and jackals were very numerous and kept up their howls all night. The wild dog (Hyena venatica) could be seen in packs of several hundred, crossing the plains in pursuit of game—they are a pretty animal with large rounded ears, large bushy tail, whitish face, long black and white hair, tall and slender. They always hunt in packs. On one of my journeys, having to cross these plains, I came upon several hundred of them in one of the slight hollows. On nearing them, for the road ran directly past where they had been having a grand feast off springbok, as remains of them were still unconsumed, some of them were lying in the road I was travelling, and would hardly get out of my way, others stood looking as we passed between them. Fortunately they had been having their meal, otherwise I think my span of oxen would have fared badly, for there must have been over 300. With so many making an attack on a span of oxen, guns would have been of little use, if they were hungry. I have often seen forty and fifty in a pack in full cry, after blesbok or springbok, and a beautiful sight it is. Wolves also were seen, seven and eight together.

At a small pan on these plains, in a hollow, with high reeds surrounding it, I, one afternoon, outspanned, intending to remain there the night, as there was an extensive pan near, with very steep banks down to it, where I intended, the next day, to look for ancient implements, as I had previously found some there before. I sent one of my Kaffir boys down to this pan, only a short distance from the waggon, for water. He was very quickly back, looking quite scared, and cried out there were wolves in the pan.

Our rifles were soon out of the waggon, and cartridges for a few shots if necessary. I started with my Bushman and Hottentot driver, all armed. As he said, the pan seemed full of them; when within fifty yards, some of the wolves broke cover and were making for some bushes; two were shot, others escaped at the sound of our rifles. We could see them moving about in the long reeds, and fired at every opportunity, killing in all seven; four of them were the largest I had ever seen; their heads were immense, and between the ears measured seven inches. They are large and powerful animals, but great cowards. Lions would be heard nightly round the waggon, whenever I outspanned in one particular district near the Moretsane or Setlakoole rivers, which seemed a favourite resort for them.

All this state of things has passed away. The game has been shot and driven away more into the desert, wolves nearly all poisoned, and in crossing any of those extensive plains and open flats, a few hundred may be counted, where before tens of thousands covered the veldt in all directions. Then it was a great pleasure to travel through the country for sport alone, in addition to the enjoyment of passing through a beautiful country teeming with game. At the present time, to go over the same ground with not a living thing to be seen, it becomes monotonous. Close to that pretty isolated hill, Swaatberg, are the ruins of a very ancient town, Kunam: whether built by Kaffirs or the race that built the other stone huts, mentioned in a previous chapter, there is no history to prove. There are many strange tales handed down to the present generation of its being one large town, the seat of a powerful chief, and of some great battles having been fought there. The ruins indicate it to have been at some remote period a large town. Near it are extensive pans, that at one time must have held water to a great depth, as the banks and cliffs clearly prove; now only in the summer months water is found in them. Not far from them there are some dried-up springs, the water of which was conveyed away by a sluit passing into the Moretsane.

One day we had fixed our camp at a very pretty spot close to some fine trees and bush, had made all fast for the night, and were sitting by the fire before going to bed, the Kaffir boys having their supper, when we were startled by a rush of large animals passing close to our camp-fires, on both sides of us. The night being very dark, we could only distinguish, by the light from our fire, that an immense herd of blesbok was amongst us. We had our rifles in hand in a moment and fired into a dense mass of them. When they passed away we found three dead upon the ground. My Hottentot and boys ran to bring them in, when a solitary blesbok rushed up to the fire and there stood quite exhausted, and some thirty yards in the rear were several animals moving about, but I could not distinguish, from the flickering light, if wolves or wild dogs, that had chased the poor animal until it could run no more. We all ran out with our rifles, but with caution, in case any lions might be amongst them. As they did not go away, evidently exhausted also with the long chase, we had a good chance of getting some, and succeeded in killing two. The others in the mean time made off. Lighting the lantern to bring them in, we found them to be very fine and powerful wild dogs. By this time the blesbok had recovered from the hard run, and took himself off. My driver wanted to kill him, but I said, “No; he sought our protection, and he shall have it.” It is wonderful they should seek man’s protection when all other hope of self-preservation seems gone. I have known small birds fly to my waggon and into it, on several occasions when pursued by hawks. This is more than instinct; there is some reasoning power in animals when they seek shelter from foes where they know they will not follow them. Foxes we know act in the same manner.

In the morning, on examining the spoor, there must have been many wild dogs engaged in the chase, but they were stopped at the sight of the two fires and waggons, and our shots at the blesbok as they passed us. In the small grove of trees under which our camp was pitched, we founded several very large chameleons measuring fifteen inches in length. We discovered them by hearing a noise on one of the branches, caused by a fight between two of the largest, which we caught, but gave them their liberty before leaving. I also, during my explorations, made a collection of many kinds of the mantis family, commonly called in Africa, Hottentot gods, as they always appear to be praying, having their two arms held as if in that act; their four legs are used for locomotion. They feed themselves with their hands. I made a collection of forty-seven different kinds, those with wings and those wingless, both kinds having well-developed bodies. Then there is a third kind without bodies, called walking-sticks, each kind having four legs, two arms and hands. I made twenty-two collections of the winged; the largest measured eleven inches in length, brown bodies and lovely purple wings, two on each side, two horns on the head a little over an inch in length, large eyes, with a mouth similar to a wasp’s, with flat head and neck four inches in length, from the lower part of which the two arms spring. The four legs were fixed in the centre of the body; the smallest size with wings measured one and a half inches in length; each size differed somewhat in shape. I put one of these, which measured six inches, green on the back and yellow underneath, with silvery wings, into a paper-collar box. One afternoon, on looking at it half an hour afterwards, I found it had woven a nest on to the side, composed of silky and light-brown material, and the insect appeared quite dead or in a torpid state. Putting the box away, I forgot to look at it for several months; when I opened the box I found upwards of 200 young ones, all dead, each about one-eighth of an inch in length. The greater portion of my specimens I caught in my waggon at night when my candle was burning and my fore-sail up, being like the moths attracted by the light. The wingless ones I found on bushes or in the grass. The third kind, the walking-stick, I always found in the grass. The first time I caught one was when I was collecting some beetles. I saw, as I thought, a piece of live grass moving along. Sitting down on the ground to watch it, I found it had four legs, which moved very slowly, and two in front that stuck straight out in line with the body. Carefully observing its movements, I saw at once it was a very strange kind of insect. Taking a piece of grass to lift it from the ground, the thing showed fight at once by raising its head, opening and shutting its mouth, drawing up its two long arms from the straight position, and striking out at the grass I held to its head. The colour was exactly that of the long dry grass in which it was moving—yellow. Length of body and neck, fourteen inches, and the size of a small straw; the legs were very long—five inches; the knee-joint half-way up; the arms had two joints—the regular elbow, and two-thirds of the distance another that doubled up, so that it could pick the food and carry it to its mouth. These again vary in size and colour from one inch in length to the size above described. The female is much larger than the male, which is a light-brown, the former of a sea-green colour. I think the mantis and the trap-door spider the most curious of the insect-world in South Africa. Many specimens of moths I collected in my waggon after dark, some of them very beautiful; the larger kinds I mostly found in the long grass on the plains.

Butterflies were very plentiful in some parts, in others rarely any would be seen; each locality had its peculiar species. The wasps also amused me when standing in any particular locality for some time; the large black with purple wings was a constant visitor. When about making a nest to lay their eggs, they would fly into my waggon, examine every part minutely, and after fixing upon a particular corner, would fly away and return with a ball of mud the size of a pea, and commence to plaster the side of the waggon fixed upon. This would go on for two or three days, the two wasps, male and female, bringing in these little balls of mud, going and returning every minute until it was completed, leaving a little circular hole to each cavity in the clay nest, one-eighth of an inch in diameter when so completed. They would commence with one of the holes, there being five; the female would deposit the eggs, then the two would go out and return with a green caterpillar each, which they would push into the hole containing the eggs, then leave and return with balls of clay, and plaster up the hole so cleverly that it would be impossible to find it from the outside. The same labour was bestowed upon the other compartment of the nest, and when completed would be left for time to bring forth the young. Two other kinds of wasps were of quite a different shape, their slender bodies extended for half an inch, leaving a large egg-shaped ball at the end. These made exactly the same form of nest as the one described. A fourth kind, I noticed, would build their nest in the roofs of buildings; these would be suspended by a thin stem of a glutinous nature, upon which would be fixed from five to twenty cells similar to those of the bee. There have been eight and ten of all these kinds of nests in my waggon at one time, and during the intense heat of the weather, 106 degrees and sometimes 116 degrees in the shade, being too hot to move about, I have amused myself in watching the methodical way in which they so cleverly and beautifully completed their work, and in so short a time. The bees generally make their nests in old hollow trees, which we discovered through the honey-bird leading us to one. When one of these birds wants to attract attention, it soon makes its presence known, and becomes impatient, if not attended to, flying round about with its little twitter and call, which is well known. When it sees you are following it, it flies from branch to branch in a straight line to the nest; when there, it stops, and you soon see the nest. The Kaffir will go fearlessly to work, the bees buzzing about him when taking out the honeycomb, he rarely being stung.

The common black crow, with white about the neck, is also a friendly bird, of the same size as our English. They generally come and settle near the outspan, waiting for the camp to break up, then come and look for what may be left. They talk in their throat as well as caw, and can be taught like a parrot to speak. I tamed a young one; he would not sleep in the waggon, but early in the morning he would come and settle on the front part of the waggon, where he could raise the fore-sail to look in. On seeing me in bed he would come in, hop up to my face, take hold of my nose, or have a peck at my beard, look round to examine the things hanging on the sides, then hop out. On my getting up and leaving the waggon he would be seen flying from some tree, and come and settle on my hat or shoulder; if the latter, he would put his head round and rub his beak against my face.

There are other crows quite black, more like ravens, but not so large. Another time I was staying at a Boer farm for three weeks to have my waggon repaired; in the early day I walked over to a Boer farm, about a mile from my outspan, to examine some quartz reefs, where I found a few specks of gold on a former journey. At this farm there was a beautiful crane, belonging to old John Nell, the farmer. I tried to make friends by making the same kind of sounds that he kept repeating, but he took no apparent notice. On leaving to walk back to the waggon with my rifle, this crane followed me all the way, keeping about three yards behind, where he remained by my camp a short time, then flew home. Every day after he paid me a visit. One afternoon I took my rifle for a ramble round in the thick bush veldt to look for a waterbok. When about a mile from my waggon I heard a great rush. Looking round I found it was my friend the crane. He settled down in front, then came and walked on my left side, just beyond my reach, keeping close for some distance, then on a sudden he took flight and rose in the air, making long circular sweeps, until he passed behind some small clouds and became again visible, until he was lost in the distance. Thinking no more of him, I continued my walk for half an hour, and was returning home, when the same kind of rush was heard, and looking up I saw him pass close to me, and settle on the ground about thirty yards in front; he then took his place by my side as before, and accompanied me home, and then flew back to the farm. I mention these incidents to show there is something more than instinct in all living things.

The country round this part of Monkuruan territory, and in fact all Africa, swarms with every kind of ant, from the smallest size up to three-quarters of an inch in length, each kind having their own peculiar form of nest, more particularly the destructive white ant, which causes so much damage to buildings and furniture; the construction of their nests differs in different latitudes. In the Cape Colony, Natal, Orange Free State, and lower part of the Transvaal, the veldt is covered with these hills, in the shape of a ball cut in halves and placed on the ground; the average size is four feet in diameter by two feet in height; many of them have been scooped out by ant-bears.

The Dutch women, in travelling, frequently make use of these holes, by turning them into ovens to bake their bread for the road. More to the north, instead of being round, they form a kind of peak, with holes on the topmost points, some exceeding in height twenty feet. North of this again the ground is raised some two feet by ten to fifteen in diameter. On the centre part chimneys are built up, many exceeding four feet in height, by nearly three feet in circumference; the opening is nearly a foot in diameter, the top terminating in a cup-like form, in three distinct layers, one above the other, forming quite an ornamental termination to the chimney beautifully constructed. On looking down, hundreds of these tiny masons may be seen plastering and repairing the inside coating, which may have received damage from rain. There is always one large chimney, and sometimes one or two smaller ones close to it, and at the base some twenty or thirty small ones, three inches to a foot in height, and three and four inches in diameter, and many small holes round about, where the ants are busy taking in their food, small pieces of dried grass, and other things, never making use of the chimneys as a means for supplying their cells with food. They are, I believe, erected as ventilators to give air below, as the cavity beneath must be as large as a small room, and in some eases larger, as a waggon fell into one. A road had been made near Molapo, over one of these disused nests, and in 1877 a Boer waggon was travelling in the night, as is their usual practice. The front oxen had gone over it, the ground gave way with the after oxen, but they managed to get on firm ground; the weight of the waggon broke the top surface, and only the desselboom on the opposite side getting fixed, kept the two fore-wheels and waggon suspended over the hole, a Boer woman and three children narrowly escaping from falling into the pit. I followed up the next morning, when the Boer and others were getting the waggon mended; bushes were then put round the hole and the road turned. If I had passed over this road before that waggon I should have met the same fate. As a whole, the roads in all parts of Monkuruan territory, and in fact throughout South Central Africa, are very good, considering they are never repaired; many of them rough and stony, but as they are mere natural tracks made by waggons, it is surprising they are in such good condition.

The population of this district, including all the various tribes, does not exceed 20,000, exclusive of Bushmen, and they do not number more than 3000.

Chapter Seven.Bechuanaland. The territory of the chief Montsioa, of the Baralongs.This country is situated on the north of Monkuruan. The boundaries are common to both, from the Transvaal, down west to that range of mountains running north, the continuation of the Langberg; beyond is the Kalahara desert, of which this western portion forms part. Its northern boundary joins the chief Gaseitsive, and the Transvaal is on the east. The length from east to west is 200 miles, and from north to south seventy miles. The Malapo, or the Mafeking river, rises in the Transvaal, flows west, through the entire length of this territory, continuing on in the same direction, receiving the two dry rivers, the Nosop and Onp, then turns south at the great bend, under the name of Hygap, and enters the Orange at Kakaman’s Drift; there are but few branches in its course. The eastern portion of this country is valuable and productive, suitable for any kind of vegetation.When the British Government settled the Keats award boundary, they confirmed Montsioa’s title to the ground on the west of it. At that time, 1871, Montsioa and many of his people were living at Moshanen, a Kaffir station in Gaseitsive’s territory, situated eighteen miles to the west of Kanya, the seat of that chief. But after the settlement of the award he removed down to his own country, and settled at his town, Sehuba, which has since been burnt by the Boers, and was six miles south of the Molapo river, and the same distance from the large kraal on its banks, under the petty chief Melema, on Molapo, who was his nephew; and eighteen miles below, and on the river, was the large kraal under Maceby.The population numbered some 35,000 souls, including the Kuruman district; but since the Transvaal Boers have made war on these people, after the retrocession of that state, nearly half have been killed and made prisoners.The country has fine grazing-lands, and some parts are well-wooded. There are extensive vleis and pans; the people cultivate corn extensively, use ploughs, and had large herds of cattle, sheep, and goats, now stolen by the Boers.Montsioa belongs to the Baralong tribe of the Bechuana family; he and his people have always been loyal to the English Government, and during the Transvaal rebellion many loyal Boers fled to him for protection, and were hospitably received. The people are in their habits and customs similar to those in Monkuruan’s country. Montsioa is a quiet, well-disposed chief, and has been cruelly used by the Boers for his loyalty to England; one of his sons, and most of his brave men, have been shot down like dogs, and his women and their children killed in cold blood, and many of them taken into captivity, all for keeping true and loyal. He has been shamefully and disgracefully forsaken, and left to battle alone against these murdering freebooters, who were supported by the Transvaal Government, and supplied with guns and ammunition to carry on their unholy war, and now he has lost the greater portion of his people, and nearly all his cattle and property. The British Government, moved by the voice of the English people and our loyals at the Cape, at the eleventh hour sent out a force under Major-General Sir Charles Warren, to see justice done him. Will they compel the Boers to return the stolen property, and the women and children they have taken into the Transvaal as slaves, for they will be nothing less? Will they deliver up the murderers of Mr Bethel and others? Never was a more cruel and unjust war made against people than this, by a people professing Christianity, who have, by their cold-blooded and atrocious acts, stamped themselves as a nation of murderers and robbers, and for such acts they are not worthy of retaining the Transvaal as an independent country. It is useless for that Government to deny any complicity in these wars, they are well known to have been the promoters—there is evidence sufficient to prove this. I was told by some of the influential Boers in Pretoria, soon after peace was restored, and the first convention made, in July 1881, that they intended to go and punish Montsioa and Monkuruan, by driving them out of their territories and taking their land, for their loyalty to England in protecting loyal Boers. As they stated, “We will not have these natives on our border who have helped you English,” showing what their intention was as soon as they were confirmed in their republic. I have deemed it necessary to state these facts, that the English people may know in any future dealings with whom they have to meet.In the settlement of the Keats award the land was confirmed to Montsioa. There is an extensive hill of metamorphic formation on his eastern boundary, but which may now be included in the Transvaal by the recent Convention, which has in its centre, on the summit, the remains of an extinct volcano; the vent is about 700 yards in diameter, the highest point is 5650 feet above sea-level, and stands on the central watershed. There is an opening for the escape of the lava, which appears to have travelled some miles down a valley on the south-east. This lava, or boiling mud, has several vents on the exterior, the central opening is level, and on one side many bones are embedded in the rock. It is an interesting formation.The western division of Montsioa’s territory is more open on the south side of the Molapo river, but more wooded on the northern. It was one of my favourite hunting-grounds in my early visits, as game at that time swarmed over those extensive plains, and with a horse they were easily shot; but it was dangerous riding, as there are so many wolf-holes, ant-bear, porcupine, armadillo, spring-hare, and meercat, partly hidden by long grass, that a horse at full speed cannot always escape them, which frequently ends in a broken collarbone or a broken rifle. Many of the antelope species are very subject to bransick, and hundreds die; their bones may be seen lying about in every direction, consequently it is a great resort for vultures and eagles, who are constantly on the look-out for those who have not many days to live. If a wildebeest or blesbok has this complaint, and is not likely to live many days, he is found standing alone, and surrounded by half a hundred of these birds waiting patiently till he drops, then they commence upon him before he is quite dead, his eyes being first taken, and in less than half an hour there is very little left to be eaten. Many believe the vultures or eagles discover their food only by their splendid sight; my experience proves that scent has more to do with it. During my travels in these wilds I have had almost daily opportunity of observing their mode of discovering any dead animal that may be exposed in the open. These birds are almost constantly on the wing; the exception is when they have gorged until they can eat no more. Then they rest on the ground or some stone koppie, until they have to some extent digested their food, to enable them to fly. Many times I have ridden up to them and given them a cut with my riding-whip to make them fly, which they are incapable of doing from over-feeding. When an animal dies, the scent is driven by the wind and ascends many thousand feet, and is carried along with it. If any of these birds are to be seen on the wing, they almost always fly in circles, making long sweeps in their course; this will take up any scent that may be in the air. In watching them closely it is easy to see when they have got the scent, and when they lose it, as is often the case if they make too great a circle. There may be sometimes from 100 to 200 performing these graceful circular flights, some one way and some another. Being at a great altitude—1000 yards—when they smell the carrion, they are, if the wind is strong, more than a mile away from the animal, and as they fly round they gradually work up to windward, until the object is visible; then they do not come down at once, but appear to make a survey of the surroundings before coming down to feast on the carcass. I have may times seen them come down wind, pass directly over a dead beast unnoticed, until they have got into the current of air on the down side, when they have worked back until they could see the animal on the ground. Their splendid sight will lead them to the spot after a time, but their quick sense of smell is the first indication that there is a grand feast for them.Of all birds I think the vulture is the most graceful in its flight, with its immense wings, which measure from tip to tip seven and sometimes nine feet, extended without a movement as they circle in the air. One day I was out on foot after some blue wildebeest, with my rifle, near the dry pan Bakillara; I came upon about 100 of these birds, who were too late for a feast upon a buck, the bones of which had already been picked quite clean, when they took flight and disappeared. Knowing their habits so well, and that more would shortly come, I walked about 100 yards away to a wildebeest hole, which that animal scrapes to sleep in. There I laid down as if dead, putting my rifle out of sight; I wanted to see what they would do if they saw me. In about ten minutes several flew overhead to the dead animal, eyeing me as they passed, with their heads on one side, and about fifty yards over me; many of them commenced their circular flight to have another look to see if I were dead. Nearly half an hour was passed in this way without the slightest movement on my part, when dozens of them began to settle on the ground forty yards away, but afraid to come nearer; others would make a swoop down within a dozen yards of me and pass on; when upwards of fifty had settled down, finding they would not come to pick my bones, and getting tired of my position, I jumped up with a great shout, when they took wing and in less than two minutes were out of sight.The black eagle is more frequently seen here than in any other part of Africa, in consequence, I suppose, of food being plentiful. I shot one out of four that settled near my waggon one afternoon, when my driver was skinning a wolf he had shot. When sitting on the ground it measured two feet four inches to the shoulder, and its wings from tip to tip nine feet five inches. Two years ago I shot a white eagle; the wings measured nearly ten feet. I tried to preserve them, but did not succeed.All kinds of hawks, some very large, and the large horned owl are common in this part of the desert, as also some of the smaller species. Snakes also are plentiful: the most common is the puffadder, which grows to a large size; two I killed measured three feet each. The cobra-de-capello and also the python are common. One I shot measured sixteen feet two inches, but there are some larger. This one had an entire steinbok in it; they are more numerous near Vleis. Lizards, salamanders, and many small snakes are seen amongst the stones and rocks. Scorpions of a dark colour have been killed eleven inches in length.This part of the country the greater part of the year is short of water, but in the Molapo it can be obtained by digging a few feet in the bed of the river, which is sand. If proper attention is paid to improvements, this part may be made valuable and productive.Many Bushman families live on the north side of the river, of the Bakillihara tribe, quite distinct from the Masare Bushman. They have small cattle-posts belonging to the Bechuanas, but others are free, seldom stationary.The old mission station at Mosega, situate on a branch of the Klein Marico, was abandoned in 1852, as also Malatza, by the Revs. Ingles and Edwards, the Boers not allowing them to remain. All that portion of Montsioa’s territory is quite equal to any part of the Cape Colony for richness of soil and growth of corn and vegetables, splendid grazing-land for cattle, and well supplied with water from fountains, with good roads. Several lions were killed on the Molapo twelve years ago; two young ones were captured and brought up by M. Ludic, a Bastard, and afterwards sold for five pounds, and sent to England.There were many Bastards at the time I first passed through, which I frequently had occasion to do on my journeys, and found them very civil and kind. Indeed, it would be difficult to find a class of people more attentive and well-disposed towards travellers than this class, so that it was quite a pleasure to meet them. They are good mechanics, and can repair a waggon as well as any colonial waggon-maker, as I have found when anything was required to be done to mine.On the south of this territory, between it and the Transvaal, is that small slip of country under the petty captain Moshette, part of which is included in the Transvaal by the late Convention between the British Government and that Republic. This petty captain and the Koranna captain Moshoen have been the tools of the Transvaal Government to make war on Monkuruan and Montsioa, and it serves them right that they should lose their country. Moshoen lives at his large station at Maamuosa, situated on a white sandstone hill close to the Harts river; this stone is used by mill-owners for grinding their corn. The most unfrequented part of Montsioa’s country is that through which the river Molapo runs, to the westward of Maceby’s station, the course of which has already been described in the river system.Eighteen years ago the plains swarmed with game, and lions also. I was travelling down from Kanya through the desert to Maceby, on my way to Conge kraal, north of Morequern. At Maceby’s there were Boers, each with a waggon, going to Morequern; the road I was travelling was the same. One of them, whom I had met before, asked if we should trek together, which was agreed to, until the roads separated seventy-five miles on, the distance to Conge being 125 miles; the only objection I had, was that they travelled at night, but as there were some very nasty places along the road and we could assist each other in case of accident, I agreed. On the third night from Maceby’s, we were travelling along over an open country, my waggon was the third in the line, and a Dutchman was the last; the night was stormy with a high wind, and very dark. Soon after inspanning in the evening, we knew lions were following us, but this occurs so often that we took no notice of it. But about eleven o’clock the oxen in all the waggons became very restless, and our foreloopers had difficulty to keep them on the road, calling out that lions were close.The Boer behind my waggon had no forelooper, there was only himself with the waggon, which was empty. I was sitting on my waggon-box with my driver, and the forelooper leading the oxen. Soon after eleven we heard the after-waggon and oxen leave the road and make a rush across the veldt, towards a dry bed of a river, and heard the Boer call out to us to stop, which we did as soon as I could make those in front understand the case. We held to, and listened, but heard no sound of the Boer or anything else. The wind and rain coming on, we three, with our waggons, drew up in a line, and fastened the oxen to the trektow and waited until daylight, for it was useless and also very dangerous to go walking about in the veldt amongst low bushes, to look for the Boer or his waggon, where lions seemed to swarm; besides, we had as much as we could do to keep the lions from making an attack on our own oxen.As soon as the first sings of daylight approached, the two Boers, a son, and myself, took our rifles and followed the spoor of the last waggon, which we found upset in the dry river, about 400 yards from the road, killing six of the oxen in the fall, and the other six had cleared themselves from their yokes, and strayed away out of sight, but no man was to be seen. Going back on the line the waggon took, we found the man’s hat and some distance beyond his long ox-whip, and a little blood, not far from it. There was then no doubt about his disappearance; the oxen had bolted, and the man to turn them on to the road had jumped off the waggon, when a lion had seized and carried him off. As the sun was now above the horizon, we gave orders for our boys to outspan, and then hastened on in the direction the lion’s spoor showed us he had gone. There was here and there blood on the grass, which led to a small clump of bushes and stones; here we found part of the remains and clothes, which were all torn to shreds, of the poor man, but no signs of the lions, for there must have been several by the footprints in the sand. We sent to the waggon for a spade and buried the remains of what small portion was left, and then took up the spoor,—to settle accounts with the lions,—which followed along a dry watercourse, which was crossed, and under a sand-bank with high grass we came upon them, a lion and lioness, and a young one, comfortably reposing. The two Boers and myself—all good shots—made very short work of the affair, knowing what they had done. It was arranged not to fire until we could make a dead shot, and all to fire at the lion; two in the first instance, the third to be ready if he showed fight, whilst the other two reloaded; but as the Dutchmen’s rifles carried heavy bullets,—eight to the pound,—their two shots did the work, for when the lion rose up to have a look at us, throwing back his ears and showing his teeth, both bullets entered his chest and he fell, but not quite dead; my third bullet in the region of his heart finished him. We then turned upon the lioness, who gave us much trouble before we could have an opportunity of a good shot; her endeavour was to escape, but this we could not quite agree to; however, a shot in the shoulder, and another in the neck, stopped her making any further attempt to get away, and enabled us to get up and complete the work. The Boers wanted the skins, which would delay us the day, therefore I went back to my waggon for breakfast, thinking it was no bad bag for so early in the morning. But before doing so we searched every bush and cover for the young lion without success; but in the afternoon, when the two Kaffir boys were skinning the lioness, the young one was seen not far off, and the Kaffir shot him. We then went down to the river to see what could be done with the waggon, the dead oxen, and those that had strayed away into the bush. After a time they were found and brought back; the waggon was too much smashed to remove. It had fallen over a steep bank fifteen feet deep. The Boers wanted to save the skins and the flesh of the dead oxen, which would take time, and as I could do no more good I arranged to start the next morning. We all took care to collect plenty of wood for great fires to be kept alight, and it was well we did, for we were serenaded with the lions’ music all the night; the surroundings seemed full of them, and also with wolves and jackals; the smell of the dead oxen brought them to our locality. However, bidding my friends good-bye, after breakfast I left for Conge. The second day after leaving them, we saw several lions as we passed along, but they were a long way from the waggon. In the afternoon, the next day, about 200 yards on our right from the road, we counted no less than seventeen large and small lions, some of them playing, others lying and sitting down; they took no notice of us, merely looked as we passed along, and we at them. We made a long trek after that, to get as far as we could from them before night, for however pretty they are to look at in their wild and native home, their proximity to the waggon on a dark night is not conducive to a good night’s rest. In four days after this we arrived at Conge, without seeing any more. I remained at this station two days, then left for Morequern. The chief and many of his people came to the waggon, with pumpkins, watermelons, milk, and eggs. I never met with a more quiet and orderly and well-behaved people than these Bechuanas. Very few traders visited these parts then. There was one after this who frequented this part of the country, and who blew himself up in his waggon, together with the missionary from Matetong and some twenty Kaffirs.This was the last missionary that lived at that station, the house and grounds are in ruins, but there are some very fine willow trees still standing planted by Messrs Moffat and Campbell when the mission was first established.Conge is eighteen miles from Morequern; the road the whole way is fearfully stony; a pan half-way is noted for guinea-fowl. The next day I arrived at Morequern, where I had to repair my waggon. A large pan divides two large kraals; on the east side an old blind chief lives, Makalawar or Makutse, a Baralong, and on the west, Maksetse.As it would take some few days before the waggon would be ready, and as all the people at these large stations had always been kind to me whenever I came amongst them, I determined to send out an invitation to all the young Kaffir girls and young Kaffirs to a big dance. They were to come in their full dress costume. The reed band was engaged. The performance was to wind up with a large ox roasted whole, to be washed down with Kaffir beer. Three o’clock was the appointed time, at a large open space by my waggon. Long before that I had half the people round me, including little children. The young girls came decked out with a profusion of beads worked upon well-brayed leather, forming aprons, bracelets, necklaces, in every variety of form and design, very beautifully executed; bands of beads round their woolly heads and long pendants of beads for earrings setting them off to great advantage, each coming to me to show their finery, and seeming delighted to be praised for their good looks and fine ornaments, for invariably when young they have beautiful figures and expressive features. The young men also came dressed in their best clothes. The old people, with their chief and his counsellors, came to look on. In all about 500 assembled to do honour to the feast, and great rejoicings and fun characterised the meeting. Two reed bands came, thirty in each. Dancing and music commenced at four p.m. and continued up to feeding-time, when the ox was sufficiently roasted. Men were told off to cut up and divide it amongst the people. Nearly 100 little fires were made for parties to form round them, for Kaffirs can do nothing without a fire. Kaffir corn was cooked in pots in addition to the meat for their feast, and at nine p.m. dancing, music, and talking recommenced with undiminished joyousness, whilst, to complete the evening, I had a scramble from my waggon of a variety of articles of use to them—handkerchiefs, tinder-boxes, knives, beads, and other things, which caused an immense amusement. At twelve o’clock I told them to go home, for I must sleep; and in less than ten minutes all was quiet. Everything passed off pleasantly. This reed band is a great institution with these people. The following night the young men met as usual with the band at their large kraal. The night was not dark, as the stars give great light in this latitude. When they were in full play, and the women and children going round the performers, singing and clapping of hands, each one wearing a long kaross, which covered their figure, and a fur cap, their usual covering at night, I left my waggon, dressed like them, with a jackal kaross and tiger-skin cap, which concealed my figure and face, walked down and joined in the dance, which was maintained for some time, all the men sitting or standing beyond the circle looking on. A little girl caught a glimpse of my white face, which had become partly uncovered, when she screamed out and pointed to me. It was then no longer necessary to keep up the disguise; I therefore threw off my kaross. When they saw who it was, they joined in the fun, laughing and clapping of hands, and I was made to sit down and have a good drink of Kaffir beer. The next night or evening, before sundown, there was a dance of the married women, about seventy, dressed up in all kinds of strange figures. This was to celebrate the return of about thirty young girls to their homes, and about the same number of young men, who had passed through certain ceremonies after the Jewish custom, before the boys are admitted into the ranks with the men, and entitled to carry arms in war; and the girls before they are allowed to marry.This custom is at a particular season. One or two old medicine-men will take those boys who are to be admitted to manhood into some secluded glen, where they remain for two or three months isolated from the rest of the people, no one being allowed to go near them during that time, the old men looking after their food; and at the appointed time they are allowed to return to the kraal. The young men are painted over with white clay for a certain number of days after the ceremony. Two or more old women take the girls also to some remote place, and when they return they also are covered with white clay, and, in addition, wear a short kilt made of reeds or grass, and a band of the same material crossing over the shoulders, meeting in front and behind, which are worn during a certain time at their kraals, when they assume their ordinary dress, and then are eligible to be chosen for wives. I was hunting one day near Cooe, and happened to ride down the river close upon a number of these girls and two old women, which caused a great commotion amongst them. I was told if they had caught me they were likely to kill me for trespassing into their sanctuary. All the Bechuana tribe have this ceremony. This region being far removed from any white people, the natives are much better behaved, and it was a pleasure to be amongst them. As a people they are quite alive to the ridiculous, and can understand a joke as well as any one. It was great fun to go out with the children and enter into games with them, which they so thoroughly enjoyed that when I arrived at their kraal again after many months, which I had frequently to do to pass through to other parts, my arrival was hailed with delight by the youngsters.During my stay here I had a narrow escape from a lion. I was out with my rifle after some ostriches in the Kalahara, ten miles from Conge. Here and there were low bushes. I had run down one bird and fastened the feathers on the saddle before me. On my way home, on my right, about 300 yards, was what appeared to be a dead animal or an ostrich, I could not tell which, therefore I rode up and found it was a blue wildebeest or gnu, nearly half eaten. Turning my horse to the left to resume my journey, walking the horse past a bush close on my right, about fifty yards from the carcass, I came right upon a full-grown lion and lioness lying down. My horse caught sight of them first, made a spring which nearly threw me from the saddle, so sudden and unexpected was his movement. When he did this I saw the lion about to spring; but our movement was too sudden, and he lost his opportunity; in another moment the lion would have been upon us. When a couple of hundred yards was between us, I turned the horse round to have a good look at the splendid animal, as I knew he would not follow. Both were standing looking at me. It was now getting late in the day, therefore I lost no more time in looking after birds or lions. We were not ten feet from the lion when the horse made his spring, about as lucky an escape from the jaws of a lion as one could desire.Treking through the country where there were no roads to Kuis, on the Molapo, in Montsioa country, I came upon a small Bushman kraal, six huts in all, evidently a permanent station. A few goats were feeding near them, and in the bushes were four bush girls collecting most beautiful caterpillars of red, yellow, blue, and green, about three inches in length. They told my Hottentot they cook them in milk, and they are very nice. As the people seemed very friendly, I remained the night with my waggon, and was much amused at the dancing and singing in the evening. Happy people! why should they be disturbed in their innocent life? There were old and young, in all eighteen; a quiet and inoffensive family. Far away from other kraals these people lived to themselves; not another family that I could see within fifty miles.Walking round in the morning to collect some of these caterpillars to put into spirits, I observed many of the thorn trees covered with dead insects, small lizards, frogs, beetles, grasshoppers, locusts, and many other kinds, all beautifully spiked on the long mimosa thorns; nearly every bough had one or more on. I knew at once that it was the larder of the little cruel butcher-bird. The bush seemed to swarm with them, and I have watched them frequently take and spike insects. One caught a frog and carried it to a tree close to where I was concealed, to see how he managed to pierce them so securely. The frog made a kind of scream when he was being taken up, and almost a scream when the large thorn was put through him. But he was not long suspended; when the bird was gone he wriggled himself clear, and fell to the ground, and I put him out of his pain. This butcher-bird is about the size, rather larger than a sparrow, black and white. One killed two canary-birds; both were put on the thorns. They seem never at rest, always looking for game of some kind. They are known in every part of South Central Africa. The Wagt-een-beitje tree is their favourite for impaling their victims.The mocking-bird is also common; two kinds, one black and white, the other brown. The latter is the most talkative. Both night and day I have watched them on the topmost branches of the lofty trees, and their persistent and energetic mode of keeping up their everlasting talk has kept me awake many nights, as in several parts, where the wood is thick, they seem to occupy every tree and bush.Snakes are also plentiful down along the Molapo; being out one afternoon with my gun after wild ducks, walking along the banks, all of a sudden a large black mamba snake stood in my path, about ten feet distant; he had raised himself more than two feet from the ground and was coming at me; I had just time to fire into his head before he made his spring. He measured eleven feet seven inches. The poison-fangs are as long as a parrot’s claws. I put him into one of these chimneypot ant-hills to feed the ants; several more I saw the same day, and many puffadders: the largest measured three feet five inches.All this part of the chief Montsioa’s territory, down past Kuis, and along the Mafeking river, which is his western division, is one of the driest portions of the Kalahara desert; in the winter months the only water to be obtained is in the sand of the river by digging; but in summer there is plenty. A road from Kuruman runs through the desert, down part of the way by the Kuruman river, crossing the Nosop and Oup to Meer, where the Bastards have formed a town: the distance is 240 miles. Before leaving this region I wish to explain the meteorological peculiarities of South Central Africa. When any great change in the atmosphere is about to take place, it has often been remarked by travellers, that in Africa there is lightning and thunder without clouds. I have often remarked this phenomenon, and wondered what could be the cause. Isolated from all society, thrown upon our own resources for occupation and amusement, in these solitary journeys through this vast unknown region, we are more prone to investigate the mysteries of nature than we should if thrown more amongst the busy world. So it was in my case, and knowing there must be some natural law unknown to me, I took my observations accordingly to find it out.During the long dry season many years ago, when travelling in the central portion of this desert, where this strange lightning and thunder occurred almost every night at certain seasons of the year, when no clouds are visible, all I could discover was, that the flashes seemed to come from one quarter. I was outspanned one day near one of those singular isolated granite hills, so often to be seen in the Kalahara desert, that look more like a ruined temple than the works of nature. I started in the afternoon to climb to its summit, to take observations with my instruments, and found the elevation from base to top to be 278 feet. It would be difficult to find words to convey the exquisite pleasure I felt in standing alone on this lofty eminence, where no white man before ever placed his foot: alone, far from the busy world, its anxieties and troubles; to look at the fair scene beneath and around me, the rich vegetation on the plains (for it was in the month of November, when all is bright and fair), the distant mountains, their quaint outlines softened by space to lovely purple tints, as they fade away into the rosy sky on the horizon! Taking up a position under a huge block of granite, to be out of the sun’s influence, for the thermometer registered 106 degrees in the shade, to take observations, my attention was attracted to some heavy-looking clouds just perceptible above the topmost ridge of some lofty hills in the north-west some twenty miles distant. The sun was shining on them, giving them a pink massive outline. I remained in this position till nearly sundown, when I returned to the waggons; no clouds were visible above the hills when I reached my camp, nothing but the bright glow of the sky, which later on had changed to a purplish-blue, and as night approached came the usual lightning-flashes; my impression was we were going to have a storm, but there were no signs of clouds all night, and a clear sky the next day. On the following day we treked fifteen miles more to the north, and in the afternoon observed, just above the horizon, a line of clouds, similar to those I had seen the day before in the same position, and as evening advanced they appeared to have dispersed, as they became blended with the evening tints, and a casual observer would declare, with every appearance of truth, that there were no clouds to be seen in the sky, although he would see the lightning-flash only, as in no case when these apparently cloudless flashes come, is spark or electric fluid visible. I have been exploring constantly the whole of South Central Africa for twenty-five years, out in the open air nightly; not an evening escaped my observations, therefore I write with some degree of confidence when I state no electric spark is ever seen with this lightning, in consequence of the distance, and partly below the horizon, and occasionally, but very seldom, in the stillness and quiet that pervades everything, the air perfectly calm, the distant nimble of thunder may be heard, and the clouds before morning have vanished. I followed these observations for months, and whenever any clouds were seen just above the horizon before the sun went down, they appeared to vanish as the evening tints deepened. The same result followed year after year.I once took up my quarters at a small spring flowing from some granite rocks, where I remained six weeks, near the range of hills already described, to hunt and explore; this was the following year, and strange to say, every afternoon heavy masses of clouds just showed their heads above the horizon, covering more than a quarter of a circle, that is, from the west of north to east-north-east, taking up the same position daily; their lovely pink tints faded as evening advanced, no clouds could be seen, and yet nightly we had these flashes. Some may say, surely these clouds must have passed over some portion of the desert, not a great distance from my outspan, and rain have fallen from these storm-clouds; the reply is, for months prior to the rainy season commencing, clouds are formed after mid-day, and follow certain strata in the air, drawn by the electric condition of that portion of the earth’s surface, and discharge the electricity they may contain without rain. I give this because I have on several occasions been stationary for some weeks in the line of country these clouds have taken, year after year, and at the same season. After the sun has passed the meridian, clouds have been collecting, generally from the north-east, and as evening advances, the vivid lightning and the heavy peals of thunder commence, and last for several hours, and then appear to evaporate, and a lovely starlight night succeeds; not a drop of rain has fallen during the storm, and a clear blue sky is seen over the whole of the horizon. In this part of the desert we are seldom below 3600 feet of sea-level, and, taking into consideration the clear and rarefied atmosphere, a flash of lightning and the thunder may be seen and heard at a greater distance than where the atmosphere is more dense. I may further observe, that owing to the rotundity of the earth, and the allowance to be made in every mile, it does not require that the clouds should be very far away to be partly below the horizon. When we place our eye on a level with the ground and look along a flat country, at ten miles’ distance a man must be seventy feet high for his head to be seen above the horizon; therefore, at twenty or thirty miles, a portion of the clouds would be beneath the horizon, not a great distance for sound to be heard on a still evening, or a flash of light to be seen as evening closed in. These storm-clouds, without rain, always precede the rainy season, as also the sand-storms, and those gigantic whirlwinds that may be seen passing over the desert by the dozen, and extending in some instances 1000 feet high, carrying up sand, sticks, and other articles that lie in their course; many of them measure 100 feet through. It is a strange sight to see many of these sand-columns passing along over a plain. I have observed, where the first passes, in the course of the day others follow exactly in the same line: they indicate a change in the weather. The mirage is also of daily occurrence. In travelling through the country, its general features appear to have entirely changed by imaginary lakes, looking so perfectly natural; lofty trees appear to be standing in water; long belts of bush and wood, which the traveller may be approaching, seem suspended in the air, showing their reflection in the vapoury atmosphere between them and the observer, which does not extend above a few feet from the ground: that apparently vanishes as you proceed, but you are passing through it; isolated hills look like islands, by their base being surrounded by this moist air, which is not confined to any particular time of day, but towards the afternoon they are more frequent. If there is any wind, of course there is no mirage, as it disperses the damp air which causes it.Montsioa territory is rich in cattle, which is sold to colonial traders. The natives also are cultivating their lands for corn, and a great sale in ploughs is the consequence. They are improving in every way, but for the last three years the Boers have laid waste the country, killing the people by hundreds, robbing them of their property, and stealing from them 30,000 head of cattle, besides sheep and goats, causing untold misery amongst a people who never injured them by word or deed. I write this from my own personal knowledge, being there at the time, and having only just returned to this country. The only means of preserving these people, and improving their condition, which is essential also to the prosperity and advancement of the Cape Colony, is to annex their lands.

This country is situated on the north of Monkuruan. The boundaries are common to both, from the Transvaal, down west to that range of mountains running north, the continuation of the Langberg; beyond is the Kalahara desert, of which this western portion forms part. Its northern boundary joins the chief Gaseitsive, and the Transvaal is on the east. The length from east to west is 200 miles, and from north to south seventy miles. The Malapo, or the Mafeking river, rises in the Transvaal, flows west, through the entire length of this territory, continuing on in the same direction, receiving the two dry rivers, the Nosop and Onp, then turns south at the great bend, under the name of Hygap, and enters the Orange at Kakaman’s Drift; there are but few branches in its course. The eastern portion of this country is valuable and productive, suitable for any kind of vegetation.

When the British Government settled the Keats award boundary, they confirmed Montsioa’s title to the ground on the west of it. At that time, 1871, Montsioa and many of his people were living at Moshanen, a Kaffir station in Gaseitsive’s territory, situated eighteen miles to the west of Kanya, the seat of that chief. But after the settlement of the award he removed down to his own country, and settled at his town, Sehuba, which has since been burnt by the Boers, and was six miles south of the Molapo river, and the same distance from the large kraal on its banks, under the petty chief Melema, on Molapo, who was his nephew; and eighteen miles below, and on the river, was the large kraal under Maceby.

The population numbered some 35,000 souls, including the Kuruman district; but since the Transvaal Boers have made war on these people, after the retrocession of that state, nearly half have been killed and made prisoners.

The country has fine grazing-lands, and some parts are well-wooded. There are extensive vleis and pans; the people cultivate corn extensively, use ploughs, and had large herds of cattle, sheep, and goats, now stolen by the Boers.

Montsioa belongs to the Baralong tribe of the Bechuana family; he and his people have always been loyal to the English Government, and during the Transvaal rebellion many loyal Boers fled to him for protection, and were hospitably received. The people are in their habits and customs similar to those in Monkuruan’s country. Montsioa is a quiet, well-disposed chief, and has been cruelly used by the Boers for his loyalty to England; one of his sons, and most of his brave men, have been shot down like dogs, and his women and their children killed in cold blood, and many of them taken into captivity, all for keeping true and loyal. He has been shamefully and disgracefully forsaken, and left to battle alone against these murdering freebooters, who were supported by the Transvaal Government, and supplied with guns and ammunition to carry on their unholy war, and now he has lost the greater portion of his people, and nearly all his cattle and property. The British Government, moved by the voice of the English people and our loyals at the Cape, at the eleventh hour sent out a force under Major-General Sir Charles Warren, to see justice done him. Will they compel the Boers to return the stolen property, and the women and children they have taken into the Transvaal as slaves, for they will be nothing less? Will they deliver up the murderers of Mr Bethel and others? Never was a more cruel and unjust war made against people than this, by a people professing Christianity, who have, by their cold-blooded and atrocious acts, stamped themselves as a nation of murderers and robbers, and for such acts they are not worthy of retaining the Transvaal as an independent country. It is useless for that Government to deny any complicity in these wars, they are well known to have been the promoters—there is evidence sufficient to prove this. I was told by some of the influential Boers in Pretoria, soon after peace was restored, and the first convention made, in July 1881, that they intended to go and punish Montsioa and Monkuruan, by driving them out of their territories and taking their land, for their loyalty to England in protecting loyal Boers. As they stated, “We will not have these natives on our border who have helped you English,” showing what their intention was as soon as they were confirmed in their republic. I have deemed it necessary to state these facts, that the English people may know in any future dealings with whom they have to meet.

In the settlement of the Keats award the land was confirmed to Montsioa. There is an extensive hill of metamorphic formation on his eastern boundary, but which may now be included in the Transvaal by the recent Convention, which has in its centre, on the summit, the remains of an extinct volcano; the vent is about 700 yards in diameter, the highest point is 5650 feet above sea-level, and stands on the central watershed. There is an opening for the escape of the lava, which appears to have travelled some miles down a valley on the south-east. This lava, or boiling mud, has several vents on the exterior, the central opening is level, and on one side many bones are embedded in the rock. It is an interesting formation.

The western division of Montsioa’s territory is more open on the south side of the Molapo river, but more wooded on the northern. It was one of my favourite hunting-grounds in my early visits, as game at that time swarmed over those extensive plains, and with a horse they were easily shot; but it was dangerous riding, as there are so many wolf-holes, ant-bear, porcupine, armadillo, spring-hare, and meercat, partly hidden by long grass, that a horse at full speed cannot always escape them, which frequently ends in a broken collarbone or a broken rifle. Many of the antelope species are very subject to bransick, and hundreds die; their bones may be seen lying about in every direction, consequently it is a great resort for vultures and eagles, who are constantly on the look-out for those who have not many days to live. If a wildebeest or blesbok has this complaint, and is not likely to live many days, he is found standing alone, and surrounded by half a hundred of these birds waiting patiently till he drops, then they commence upon him before he is quite dead, his eyes being first taken, and in less than half an hour there is very little left to be eaten. Many believe the vultures or eagles discover their food only by their splendid sight; my experience proves that scent has more to do with it. During my travels in these wilds I have had almost daily opportunity of observing their mode of discovering any dead animal that may be exposed in the open. These birds are almost constantly on the wing; the exception is when they have gorged until they can eat no more. Then they rest on the ground or some stone koppie, until they have to some extent digested their food, to enable them to fly. Many times I have ridden up to them and given them a cut with my riding-whip to make them fly, which they are incapable of doing from over-feeding. When an animal dies, the scent is driven by the wind and ascends many thousand feet, and is carried along with it. If any of these birds are to be seen on the wing, they almost always fly in circles, making long sweeps in their course; this will take up any scent that may be in the air. In watching them closely it is easy to see when they have got the scent, and when they lose it, as is often the case if they make too great a circle. There may be sometimes from 100 to 200 performing these graceful circular flights, some one way and some another. Being at a great altitude—1000 yards—when they smell the carrion, they are, if the wind is strong, more than a mile away from the animal, and as they fly round they gradually work up to windward, until the object is visible; then they do not come down at once, but appear to make a survey of the surroundings before coming down to feast on the carcass. I have may times seen them come down wind, pass directly over a dead beast unnoticed, until they have got into the current of air on the down side, when they have worked back until they could see the animal on the ground. Their splendid sight will lead them to the spot after a time, but their quick sense of smell is the first indication that there is a grand feast for them.

Of all birds I think the vulture is the most graceful in its flight, with its immense wings, which measure from tip to tip seven and sometimes nine feet, extended without a movement as they circle in the air. One day I was out on foot after some blue wildebeest, with my rifle, near the dry pan Bakillara; I came upon about 100 of these birds, who were too late for a feast upon a buck, the bones of which had already been picked quite clean, when they took flight and disappeared. Knowing their habits so well, and that more would shortly come, I walked about 100 yards away to a wildebeest hole, which that animal scrapes to sleep in. There I laid down as if dead, putting my rifle out of sight; I wanted to see what they would do if they saw me. In about ten minutes several flew overhead to the dead animal, eyeing me as they passed, with their heads on one side, and about fifty yards over me; many of them commenced their circular flight to have another look to see if I were dead. Nearly half an hour was passed in this way without the slightest movement on my part, when dozens of them began to settle on the ground forty yards away, but afraid to come nearer; others would make a swoop down within a dozen yards of me and pass on; when upwards of fifty had settled down, finding they would not come to pick my bones, and getting tired of my position, I jumped up with a great shout, when they took wing and in less than two minutes were out of sight.

The black eagle is more frequently seen here than in any other part of Africa, in consequence, I suppose, of food being plentiful. I shot one out of four that settled near my waggon one afternoon, when my driver was skinning a wolf he had shot. When sitting on the ground it measured two feet four inches to the shoulder, and its wings from tip to tip nine feet five inches. Two years ago I shot a white eagle; the wings measured nearly ten feet. I tried to preserve them, but did not succeed.

All kinds of hawks, some very large, and the large horned owl are common in this part of the desert, as also some of the smaller species. Snakes also are plentiful: the most common is the puffadder, which grows to a large size; two I killed measured three feet each. The cobra-de-capello and also the python are common. One I shot measured sixteen feet two inches, but there are some larger. This one had an entire steinbok in it; they are more numerous near Vleis. Lizards, salamanders, and many small snakes are seen amongst the stones and rocks. Scorpions of a dark colour have been killed eleven inches in length.

This part of the country the greater part of the year is short of water, but in the Molapo it can be obtained by digging a few feet in the bed of the river, which is sand. If proper attention is paid to improvements, this part may be made valuable and productive.

Many Bushman families live on the north side of the river, of the Bakillihara tribe, quite distinct from the Masare Bushman. They have small cattle-posts belonging to the Bechuanas, but others are free, seldom stationary.

The old mission station at Mosega, situate on a branch of the Klein Marico, was abandoned in 1852, as also Malatza, by the Revs. Ingles and Edwards, the Boers not allowing them to remain. All that portion of Montsioa’s territory is quite equal to any part of the Cape Colony for richness of soil and growth of corn and vegetables, splendid grazing-land for cattle, and well supplied with water from fountains, with good roads. Several lions were killed on the Molapo twelve years ago; two young ones were captured and brought up by M. Ludic, a Bastard, and afterwards sold for five pounds, and sent to England.

There were many Bastards at the time I first passed through, which I frequently had occasion to do on my journeys, and found them very civil and kind. Indeed, it would be difficult to find a class of people more attentive and well-disposed towards travellers than this class, so that it was quite a pleasure to meet them. They are good mechanics, and can repair a waggon as well as any colonial waggon-maker, as I have found when anything was required to be done to mine.

On the south of this territory, between it and the Transvaal, is that small slip of country under the petty captain Moshette, part of which is included in the Transvaal by the late Convention between the British Government and that Republic. This petty captain and the Koranna captain Moshoen have been the tools of the Transvaal Government to make war on Monkuruan and Montsioa, and it serves them right that they should lose their country. Moshoen lives at his large station at Maamuosa, situated on a white sandstone hill close to the Harts river; this stone is used by mill-owners for grinding their corn. The most unfrequented part of Montsioa’s country is that through which the river Molapo runs, to the westward of Maceby’s station, the course of which has already been described in the river system.

Eighteen years ago the plains swarmed with game, and lions also. I was travelling down from Kanya through the desert to Maceby, on my way to Conge kraal, north of Morequern. At Maceby’s there were Boers, each with a waggon, going to Morequern; the road I was travelling was the same. One of them, whom I had met before, asked if we should trek together, which was agreed to, until the roads separated seventy-five miles on, the distance to Conge being 125 miles; the only objection I had, was that they travelled at night, but as there were some very nasty places along the road and we could assist each other in case of accident, I agreed. On the third night from Maceby’s, we were travelling along over an open country, my waggon was the third in the line, and a Dutchman was the last; the night was stormy with a high wind, and very dark. Soon after inspanning in the evening, we knew lions were following us, but this occurs so often that we took no notice of it. But about eleven o’clock the oxen in all the waggons became very restless, and our foreloopers had difficulty to keep them on the road, calling out that lions were close.

The Boer behind my waggon had no forelooper, there was only himself with the waggon, which was empty. I was sitting on my waggon-box with my driver, and the forelooper leading the oxen. Soon after eleven we heard the after-waggon and oxen leave the road and make a rush across the veldt, towards a dry bed of a river, and heard the Boer call out to us to stop, which we did as soon as I could make those in front understand the case. We held to, and listened, but heard no sound of the Boer or anything else. The wind and rain coming on, we three, with our waggons, drew up in a line, and fastened the oxen to the trektow and waited until daylight, for it was useless and also very dangerous to go walking about in the veldt amongst low bushes, to look for the Boer or his waggon, where lions seemed to swarm; besides, we had as much as we could do to keep the lions from making an attack on our own oxen.

As soon as the first sings of daylight approached, the two Boers, a son, and myself, took our rifles and followed the spoor of the last waggon, which we found upset in the dry river, about 400 yards from the road, killing six of the oxen in the fall, and the other six had cleared themselves from their yokes, and strayed away out of sight, but no man was to be seen. Going back on the line the waggon took, we found the man’s hat and some distance beyond his long ox-whip, and a little blood, not far from it. There was then no doubt about his disappearance; the oxen had bolted, and the man to turn them on to the road had jumped off the waggon, when a lion had seized and carried him off. As the sun was now above the horizon, we gave orders for our boys to outspan, and then hastened on in the direction the lion’s spoor showed us he had gone. There was here and there blood on the grass, which led to a small clump of bushes and stones; here we found part of the remains and clothes, which were all torn to shreds, of the poor man, but no signs of the lions, for there must have been several by the footprints in the sand. We sent to the waggon for a spade and buried the remains of what small portion was left, and then took up the spoor,—to settle accounts with the lions,—which followed along a dry watercourse, which was crossed, and under a sand-bank with high grass we came upon them, a lion and lioness, and a young one, comfortably reposing. The two Boers and myself—all good shots—made very short work of the affair, knowing what they had done. It was arranged not to fire until we could make a dead shot, and all to fire at the lion; two in the first instance, the third to be ready if he showed fight, whilst the other two reloaded; but as the Dutchmen’s rifles carried heavy bullets,—eight to the pound,—their two shots did the work, for when the lion rose up to have a look at us, throwing back his ears and showing his teeth, both bullets entered his chest and he fell, but not quite dead; my third bullet in the region of his heart finished him. We then turned upon the lioness, who gave us much trouble before we could have an opportunity of a good shot; her endeavour was to escape, but this we could not quite agree to; however, a shot in the shoulder, and another in the neck, stopped her making any further attempt to get away, and enabled us to get up and complete the work. The Boers wanted the skins, which would delay us the day, therefore I went back to my waggon for breakfast, thinking it was no bad bag for so early in the morning. But before doing so we searched every bush and cover for the young lion without success; but in the afternoon, when the two Kaffir boys were skinning the lioness, the young one was seen not far off, and the Kaffir shot him. We then went down to the river to see what could be done with the waggon, the dead oxen, and those that had strayed away into the bush. After a time they were found and brought back; the waggon was too much smashed to remove. It had fallen over a steep bank fifteen feet deep. The Boers wanted to save the skins and the flesh of the dead oxen, which would take time, and as I could do no more good I arranged to start the next morning. We all took care to collect plenty of wood for great fires to be kept alight, and it was well we did, for we were serenaded with the lions’ music all the night; the surroundings seemed full of them, and also with wolves and jackals; the smell of the dead oxen brought them to our locality. However, bidding my friends good-bye, after breakfast I left for Conge. The second day after leaving them, we saw several lions as we passed along, but they were a long way from the waggon. In the afternoon, the next day, about 200 yards on our right from the road, we counted no less than seventeen large and small lions, some of them playing, others lying and sitting down; they took no notice of us, merely looked as we passed along, and we at them. We made a long trek after that, to get as far as we could from them before night, for however pretty they are to look at in their wild and native home, their proximity to the waggon on a dark night is not conducive to a good night’s rest. In four days after this we arrived at Conge, without seeing any more. I remained at this station two days, then left for Morequern. The chief and many of his people came to the waggon, with pumpkins, watermelons, milk, and eggs. I never met with a more quiet and orderly and well-behaved people than these Bechuanas. Very few traders visited these parts then. There was one after this who frequented this part of the country, and who blew himself up in his waggon, together with the missionary from Matetong and some twenty Kaffirs.

This was the last missionary that lived at that station, the house and grounds are in ruins, but there are some very fine willow trees still standing planted by Messrs Moffat and Campbell when the mission was first established.

Conge is eighteen miles from Morequern; the road the whole way is fearfully stony; a pan half-way is noted for guinea-fowl. The next day I arrived at Morequern, where I had to repair my waggon. A large pan divides two large kraals; on the east side an old blind chief lives, Makalawar or Makutse, a Baralong, and on the west, Maksetse.

As it would take some few days before the waggon would be ready, and as all the people at these large stations had always been kind to me whenever I came amongst them, I determined to send out an invitation to all the young Kaffir girls and young Kaffirs to a big dance. They were to come in their full dress costume. The reed band was engaged. The performance was to wind up with a large ox roasted whole, to be washed down with Kaffir beer. Three o’clock was the appointed time, at a large open space by my waggon. Long before that I had half the people round me, including little children. The young girls came decked out with a profusion of beads worked upon well-brayed leather, forming aprons, bracelets, necklaces, in every variety of form and design, very beautifully executed; bands of beads round their woolly heads and long pendants of beads for earrings setting them off to great advantage, each coming to me to show their finery, and seeming delighted to be praised for their good looks and fine ornaments, for invariably when young they have beautiful figures and expressive features. The young men also came dressed in their best clothes. The old people, with their chief and his counsellors, came to look on. In all about 500 assembled to do honour to the feast, and great rejoicings and fun characterised the meeting. Two reed bands came, thirty in each. Dancing and music commenced at four p.m. and continued up to feeding-time, when the ox was sufficiently roasted. Men were told off to cut up and divide it amongst the people. Nearly 100 little fires were made for parties to form round them, for Kaffirs can do nothing without a fire. Kaffir corn was cooked in pots in addition to the meat for their feast, and at nine p.m. dancing, music, and talking recommenced with undiminished joyousness, whilst, to complete the evening, I had a scramble from my waggon of a variety of articles of use to them—handkerchiefs, tinder-boxes, knives, beads, and other things, which caused an immense amusement. At twelve o’clock I told them to go home, for I must sleep; and in less than ten minutes all was quiet. Everything passed off pleasantly. This reed band is a great institution with these people. The following night the young men met as usual with the band at their large kraal. The night was not dark, as the stars give great light in this latitude. When they were in full play, and the women and children going round the performers, singing and clapping of hands, each one wearing a long kaross, which covered their figure, and a fur cap, their usual covering at night, I left my waggon, dressed like them, with a jackal kaross and tiger-skin cap, which concealed my figure and face, walked down and joined in the dance, which was maintained for some time, all the men sitting or standing beyond the circle looking on. A little girl caught a glimpse of my white face, which had become partly uncovered, when she screamed out and pointed to me. It was then no longer necessary to keep up the disguise; I therefore threw off my kaross. When they saw who it was, they joined in the fun, laughing and clapping of hands, and I was made to sit down and have a good drink of Kaffir beer. The next night or evening, before sundown, there was a dance of the married women, about seventy, dressed up in all kinds of strange figures. This was to celebrate the return of about thirty young girls to their homes, and about the same number of young men, who had passed through certain ceremonies after the Jewish custom, before the boys are admitted into the ranks with the men, and entitled to carry arms in war; and the girls before they are allowed to marry.

This custom is at a particular season. One or two old medicine-men will take those boys who are to be admitted to manhood into some secluded glen, where they remain for two or three months isolated from the rest of the people, no one being allowed to go near them during that time, the old men looking after their food; and at the appointed time they are allowed to return to the kraal. The young men are painted over with white clay for a certain number of days after the ceremony. Two or more old women take the girls also to some remote place, and when they return they also are covered with white clay, and, in addition, wear a short kilt made of reeds or grass, and a band of the same material crossing over the shoulders, meeting in front and behind, which are worn during a certain time at their kraals, when they assume their ordinary dress, and then are eligible to be chosen for wives. I was hunting one day near Cooe, and happened to ride down the river close upon a number of these girls and two old women, which caused a great commotion amongst them. I was told if they had caught me they were likely to kill me for trespassing into their sanctuary. All the Bechuana tribe have this ceremony. This region being far removed from any white people, the natives are much better behaved, and it was a pleasure to be amongst them. As a people they are quite alive to the ridiculous, and can understand a joke as well as any one. It was great fun to go out with the children and enter into games with them, which they so thoroughly enjoyed that when I arrived at their kraal again after many months, which I had frequently to do to pass through to other parts, my arrival was hailed with delight by the youngsters.

During my stay here I had a narrow escape from a lion. I was out with my rifle after some ostriches in the Kalahara, ten miles from Conge. Here and there were low bushes. I had run down one bird and fastened the feathers on the saddle before me. On my way home, on my right, about 300 yards, was what appeared to be a dead animal or an ostrich, I could not tell which, therefore I rode up and found it was a blue wildebeest or gnu, nearly half eaten. Turning my horse to the left to resume my journey, walking the horse past a bush close on my right, about fifty yards from the carcass, I came right upon a full-grown lion and lioness lying down. My horse caught sight of them first, made a spring which nearly threw me from the saddle, so sudden and unexpected was his movement. When he did this I saw the lion about to spring; but our movement was too sudden, and he lost his opportunity; in another moment the lion would have been upon us. When a couple of hundred yards was between us, I turned the horse round to have a good look at the splendid animal, as I knew he would not follow. Both were standing looking at me. It was now getting late in the day, therefore I lost no more time in looking after birds or lions. We were not ten feet from the lion when the horse made his spring, about as lucky an escape from the jaws of a lion as one could desire.

Treking through the country where there were no roads to Kuis, on the Molapo, in Montsioa country, I came upon a small Bushman kraal, six huts in all, evidently a permanent station. A few goats were feeding near them, and in the bushes were four bush girls collecting most beautiful caterpillars of red, yellow, blue, and green, about three inches in length. They told my Hottentot they cook them in milk, and they are very nice. As the people seemed very friendly, I remained the night with my waggon, and was much amused at the dancing and singing in the evening. Happy people! why should they be disturbed in their innocent life? There were old and young, in all eighteen; a quiet and inoffensive family. Far away from other kraals these people lived to themselves; not another family that I could see within fifty miles.

Walking round in the morning to collect some of these caterpillars to put into spirits, I observed many of the thorn trees covered with dead insects, small lizards, frogs, beetles, grasshoppers, locusts, and many other kinds, all beautifully spiked on the long mimosa thorns; nearly every bough had one or more on. I knew at once that it was the larder of the little cruel butcher-bird. The bush seemed to swarm with them, and I have watched them frequently take and spike insects. One caught a frog and carried it to a tree close to where I was concealed, to see how he managed to pierce them so securely. The frog made a kind of scream when he was being taken up, and almost a scream when the large thorn was put through him. But he was not long suspended; when the bird was gone he wriggled himself clear, and fell to the ground, and I put him out of his pain. This butcher-bird is about the size, rather larger than a sparrow, black and white. One killed two canary-birds; both were put on the thorns. They seem never at rest, always looking for game of some kind. They are known in every part of South Central Africa. The Wagt-een-beitje tree is their favourite for impaling their victims.

The mocking-bird is also common; two kinds, one black and white, the other brown. The latter is the most talkative. Both night and day I have watched them on the topmost branches of the lofty trees, and their persistent and energetic mode of keeping up their everlasting talk has kept me awake many nights, as in several parts, where the wood is thick, they seem to occupy every tree and bush.

Snakes are also plentiful down along the Molapo; being out one afternoon with my gun after wild ducks, walking along the banks, all of a sudden a large black mamba snake stood in my path, about ten feet distant; he had raised himself more than two feet from the ground and was coming at me; I had just time to fire into his head before he made his spring. He measured eleven feet seven inches. The poison-fangs are as long as a parrot’s claws. I put him into one of these chimneypot ant-hills to feed the ants; several more I saw the same day, and many puffadders: the largest measured three feet five inches.

All this part of the chief Montsioa’s territory, down past Kuis, and along the Mafeking river, which is his western division, is one of the driest portions of the Kalahara desert; in the winter months the only water to be obtained is in the sand of the river by digging; but in summer there is plenty. A road from Kuruman runs through the desert, down part of the way by the Kuruman river, crossing the Nosop and Oup to Meer, where the Bastards have formed a town: the distance is 240 miles. Before leaving this region I wish to explain the meteorological peculiarities of South Central Africa. When any great change in the atmosphere is about to take place, it has often been remarked by travellers, that in Africa there is lightning and thunder without clouds. I have often remarked this phenomenon, and wondered what could be the cause. Isolated from all society, thrown upon our own resources for occupation and amusement, in these solitary journeys through this vast unknown region, we are more prone to investigate the mysteries of nature than we should if thrown more amongst the busy world. So it was in my case, and knowing there must be some natural law unknown to me, I took my observations accordingly to find it out.

During the long dry season many years ago, when travelling in the central portion of this desert, where this strange lightning and thunder occurred almost every night at certain seasons of the year, when no clouds are visible, all I could discover was, that the flashes seemed to come from one quarter. I was outspanned one day near one of those singular isolated granite hills, so often to be seen in the Kalahara desert, that look more like a ruined temple than the works of nature. I started in the afternoon to climb to its summit, to take observations with my instruments, and found the elevation from base to top to be 278 feet. It would be difficult to find words to convey the exquisite pleasure I felt in standing alone on this lofty eminence, where no white man before ever placed his foot: alone, far from the busy world, its anxieties and troubles; to look at the fair scene beneath and around me, the rich vegetation on the plains (for it was in the month of November, when all is bright and fair), the distant mountains, their quaint outlines softened by space to lovely purple tints, as they fade away into the rosy sky on the horizon! Taking up a position under a huge block of granite, to be out of the sun’s influence, for the thermometer registered 106 degrees in the shade, to take observations, my attention was attracted to some heavy-looking clouds just perceptible above the topmost ridge of some lofty hills in the north-west some twenty miles distant. The sun was shining on them, giving them a pink massive outline. I remained in this position till nearly sundown, when I returned to the waggons; no clouds were visible above the hills when I reached my camp, nothing but the bright glow of the sky, which later on had changed to a purplish-blue, and as night approached came the usual lightning-flashes; my impression was we were going to have a storm, but there were no signs of clouds all night, and a clear sky the next day. On the following day we treked fifteen miles more to the north, and in the afternoon observed, just above the horizon, a line of clouds, similar to those I had seen the day before in the same position, and as evening advanced they appeared to have dispersed, as they became blended with the evening tints, and a casual observer would declare, with every appearance of truth, that there were no clouds to be seen in the sky, although he would see the lightning-flash only, as in no case when these apparently cloudless flashes come, is spark or electric fluid visible. I have been exploring constantly the whole of South Central Africa for twenty-five years, out in the open air nightly; not an evening escaped my observations, therefore I write with some degree of confidence when I state no electric spark is ever seen with this lightning, in consequence of the distance, and partly below the horizon, and occasionally, but very seldom, in the stillness and quiet that pervades everything, the air perfectly calm, the distant nimble of thunder may be heard, and the clouds before morning have vanished. I followed these observations for months, and whenever any clouds were seen just above the horizon before the sun went down, they appeared to vanish as the evening tints deepened. The same result followed year after year.

I once took up my quarters at a small spring flowing from some granite rocks, where I remained six weeks, near the range of hills already described, to hunt and explore; this was the following year, and strange to say, every afternoon heavy masses of clouds just showed their heads above the horizon, covering more than a quarter of a circle, that is, from the west of north to east-north-east, taking up the same position daily; their lovely pink tints faded as evening advanced, no clouds could be seen, and yet nightly we had these flashes. Some may say, surely these clouds must have passed over some portion of the desert, not a great distance from my outspan, and rain have fallen from these storm-clouds; the reply is, for months prior to the rainy season commencing, clouds are formed after mid-day, and follow certain strata in the air, drawn by the electric condition of that portion of the earth’s surface, and discharge the electricity they may contain without rain. I give this because I have on several occasions been stationary for some weeks in the line of country these clouds have taken, year after year, and at the same season. After the sun has passed the meridian, clouds have been collecting, generally from the north-east, and as evening advances, the vivid lightning and the heavy peals of thunder commence, and last for several hours, and then appear to evaporate, and a lovely starlight night succeeds; not a drop of rain has fallen during the storm, and a clear blue sky is seen over the whole of the horizon. In this part of the desert we are seldom below 3600 feet of sea-level, and, taking into consideration the clear and rarefied atmosphere, a flash of lightning and the thunder may be seen and heard at a greater distance than where the atmosphere is more dense. I may further observe, that owing to the rotundity of the earth, and the allowance to be made in every mile, it does not require that the clouds should be very far away to be partly below the horizon. When we place our eye on a level with the ground and look along a flat country, at ten miles’ distance a man must be seventy feet high for his head to be seen above the horizon; therefore, at twenty or thirty miles, a portion of the clouds would be beneath the horizon, not a great distance for sound to be heard on a still evening, or a flash of light to be seen as evening closed in. These storm-clouds, without rain, always precede the rainy season, as also the sand-storms, and those gigantic whirlwinds that may be seen passing over the desert by the dozen, and extending in some instances 1000 feet high, carrying up sand, sticks, and other articles that lie in their course; many of them measure 100 feet through. It is a strange sight to see many of these sand-columns passing along over a plain. I have observed, where the first passes, in the course of the day others follow exactly in the same line: they indicate a change in the weather. The mirage is also of daily occurrence. In travelling through the country, its general features appear to have entirely changed by imaginary lakes, looking so perfectly natural; lofty trees appear to be standing in water; long belts of bush and wood, which the traveller may be approaching, seem suspended in the air, showing their reflection in the vapoury atmosphere between them and the observer, which does not extend above a few feet from the ground: that apparently vanishes as you proceed, but you are passing through it; isolated hills look like islands, by their base being surrounded by this moist air, which is not confined to any particular time of day, but towards the afternoon they are more frequent. If there is any wind, of course there is no mirage, as it disperses the damp air which causes it.

Montsioa territory is rich in cattle, which is sold to colonial traders. The natives also are cultivating their lands for corn, and a great sale in ploughs is the consequence. They are improving in every way, but for the last three years the Boers have laid waste the country, killing the people by hundreds, robbing them of their property, and stealing from them 30,000 head of cattle, besides sheep and goats, causing untold misery amongst a people who never injured them by word or deed. I write this from my own personal knowledge, being there at the time, and having only just returned to this country. The only means of preserving these people, and improving their condition, which is essential also to the prosperity and advancement of the Cape Colony, is to annex their lands.

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