Chapter Ten.

Chapter Ten.The chief Khama’s territory of the Bakalihari tribe of the Bechuana family.From the last outspan on the Notuane, at the junction of the Limpopo, mentioned in the last chapter, the road for eight miles is close to the bank of the Limpopo river, where I had some fishing, but instead of catching any fish, I caught a young iguana, two feet long, and had great difficulty to land him. It was necessary to kill the beast to release the hook. At the bend of the river the road turns north-west, and goes on to Ba-Mangwato. There are several cattle-posts at the bend belonging to Khama’s people and the traders at that station; and also immense ant-hills, of the same kind as those at Motsodie. I measured one, twenty feet high and nearly sixty feet in circumference, made by these little white ants; my waggon looked quite small beside it.The climate here is very peculiar, hot sun, 99 degrees in the shade, with cold blasts of wind every four or five minutes in regular waves, reducing the heat to 70 degrees, which we feel very cold. This is one great cause of rheumatism and fever. To-day was almost melting with heat; I took shelter under the waggon, but had not been there three minutes when I had to get into the waggon, being so cold from the wind, which feels as if it came from a frozen region. If in a violent perspiration, fever comes on, if care is not taken to prevent a chill. The road from this place to Mongwato is fifty-five miles. In the dry season there are only three places where water can be obtained.On one of the tributaries of the Limpopo is a circular rock in the veldt, no other stones near it, fifteen feet in diameter, and similar in shape to a ball cut through the centre, and placed on the ground, only it belongs to the rock beneath the soil. This rock has been covered with carvings, the greater portion of which is nearly smooth by large animals rubbing against it, giving it quite a polish. Sufficient lines are left to show it has been well cut with some sort of figures, and on one side where it curves in a little, and is out of the way of elephants, rhinoceros, and other animals, the carvings are nearly perfect. They represent paths with trees and fruit on each side; upon one is a snake crawling down with a fruit or round ball in its mouth, near it is a figure, and a little distance off another figure with wings, almost like an iguana, flying towards a man who is running away; his left foot is similar to that of a horse, the right one has two points—evidently Satan; the intermediate spaces have many stars. The upper part of the stone has, in the centre, a small hollow of a cup-shape, with two circles of the same round the centre one. It is a very interesting monument, and appears to be very old, from the fact of the other portions being partly obliterated by the rubbing of animals against it. The rock is very hard and similar to those geologists call igneous. There are many rocks of the same description, with carvings of animals, snakes, and figures on them, and from their position they have been preserved from animals defacing them. In several parts of the country many of them are well executed.A few days previous to my arrival here in 1877, three Boers, with their waggons, were endeavouring to find a new drift in the Limpopo river, and went in to cross to the opposite side. They had nearly reached the bank, when the foremost looked round and saw a large crocodile come up from the water and seize the head of the last man between his jaws, and disappear with him. His name was Herman, a married man, twenty-six years of age. Nothing more was seen of him but blood in the water. His widow, a few months after, consoled herself with another husband. At this time, soon after the British Government had annexed the Transvaal, the Boers, wherever I met them, were always friendly—so much so, that I have often been invited to take one of their daughters for a wife. They were rather proud to have an Englishman for a son-in-law. I was outspanned not many weeks back at a very pretty pool of water, or spring, the water of which fell into the Notuane river, in what is termed the Bush Veldt, that I might have a little shooting. The second day an old Boer and his wife came to me to ask if I would buy some ostrich feathers, taking me to be a trader, for all Englishmen travelling through the country will do a little in the way of barter; therefore I told them if they were good I would. When coffee was handed to them as a matter of custom, they asked where my wife was. On stating I was single, the old vrow said I must have one of her daughters; she had two mooi (pretty) girls, and would bring them the next day for me to see when she brought the feathers. Accordingly, the next day, true to her promise, she came with the old man and her two girls to the waggon; both very young, the eldest not more than seventeen, and not bad-looking for Dutch girls, apparently very modest and shy, with a conscious look of what they were brought for. After settling about the feathers, the old mother pointed out her daughters to me, and told me, pointing to the eldest, she would make me a mooi vrow, and that she had a farm of her own and some stock. Both the girls, sitting together by their mother, looked down and giggled every now and again, giving me sly glances from beneath their cappies (the usual covering for the head for old and young), and then another giggle. They had evidently been got up for the occasion by their smart dresses, well-made English boots, and clean white stockings, to show off a pretty foot and ankle, which certainly they both possessed, and were not backward in showing. This is very unusual, they generally have clumsy feet. When at home these articles are never worn, only leather shoes called veldtscoons, which the men make. They say—which is quite true—that stockings are dirty when you walk about in a sandy country. However, after a long visit, coffee and biscuits, I arranged that on my return I would come and pay them a visit, and talk over the matter, as my opinion was either of them would make excellent vrows, and left the best of friends. The old woman’s last words were, “You can take my daughter as soon as you come for her,” and an encouraging glance from the daughter terminated this interesting meeting, enhanced, as it was, by the anticipation of having the felicity soon to possess so charming a young lady. I have had many such offers from Boers, who were favourable to Englishmen at that time. However, unfortunately my pursuits called me in another direction.The country between the Limpopo and Ba-Mangwato, the chief Khama’s station, is very pretty, plenty of guinea-fowls, partridges, and pows. Far away from the road on the left, seven miles from the bend of the Limpopo, is a large pan where lions are always known to be, and beyond is Brakwater, where ten years before I lost an ox from out of my cattle kraal one dark night when outspanned. It is the custom, with all travellers when in the Lion Veldt to kraal their cattle at night. Seventeen miles beyond Brakwater are the Khamitsie Pits, where water seldom fails, and close to them is a large dry pan quite a mile in length. The road passing round at the upper end, and fifteen miles beyond, winds through the veldt into the ancient river-bed leading to Mongwato. The whole region for hundreds of miles is one continuation of wood, inhabited by a few Bushmen. The country for so many months without water is uninhabitable, except at the springs. The distance by this river road from Molapololo to Mongwato is 164 miles.Ba-Mangwato, or Shoshong, is the chief town of Khama. The chief Sekomo ruled at this station, until Machin, his brother, drove him from the chieftainship, and at Machin’s death, after considerable fighting, Khama, son of Sekomo, became the chief of the people over this territory. They belong to the Bakalihari tribe of the Bechuana family. It is a very important station, situated at the foot of a long range of beautiful hills, and up an opening in the range, where an ancient river-bed passes through, and where the mission station and church are situated, it is one of the most romantic valleys in this part of the country. When I first knew the station, the Rev. Mr Mackenzie had charge, now the Rev. Mr Hepburn lives in a very comfortable house up this kloof. The hills are formed of various kinds of sandstone of a brown colour. At the back, some distance beyond the church, is a very singular hill, with a perpendicular cliff on the upper portion. The stratification makes it look like a regular wall, with its horizontal layers so regularly placed. In Sekomo’s and Machin’s time the town was much larger, but since the wars it is considerably diminished. The chief Khama lives in the lower town, and has only one wife, being a good Christian and a great help to the missionary. The traders’ stores are also in the lower town, and form quite a little village by themselves. Messrs Francis and Clark have a fine store, and a building which is occasionally used as a concert-hall by the traders, who sometimes muster in considerable numbers, and out of so many a good band is got together. Most of those stationed there are splendid musicians, both vocally and instrumentally, so that many an enjoyable evening is spent to break the monotony of a life so far removed from the outer world. They have also their cricket matches, horse races, lawn tennis, football, and other sports. Mr Hepburn is indefatigable in his mission labour in civilising the natives, combined with the good example set them by the traders at the station. The chief Khama is a gentleman in every sense of the word. I have met him and felt much pleasure in his society. He has prohibited spirits being sold to his people, and on my last visit but one he did me a great service, and helped me in the most kind way by taking charge of my oxen when I had been two days without water, having arrived at Mongwato expecting to obtain some, but there was not a drop, not sufficient even for the people. On hearing of my arrival, he came down and took my oxen in his charge, sent them with one of his herds to his cattle-post eighteen miles away on the river Mokalapse, to the north of the town, and kept them there for twelve days, until I could trek to Matabeleland. He requires all travellers who enter his territory to call upon him, that he may know who is passing through, in case they require any help he can give. Those who avoid doing so, if they get into trouble, must get out of it the best way they can. All the roads from the south meet at Mongwato; one goes to Lake N’gami, another to the Chobe, two to the Zambese, and one main road to the Matabeleland, with branches leading to the Victoria Falls.The people at one time were very unruly and troublesome to travellers. In 1868 I was at the station when a trader came in with some brandy; we outspanned close together outside the town. The next day the traders at the station, and there were some fourteen, indulged too much; one in particular had so far forgotten himself as to take a leg of pork to the kotla or council enclosure, where the chief Machin was sitting with his councillors, and held the leg of pork in the chief’s face, and asked if he liked the smell. These Kaffirs are like the Jews with respect to pork. This created an uproar in the station; the trader was severely beaten, and the whole town turned out to kill all the white men. They, hearing of this, fortified themselves in their stores. Hundreds of Kaffirs paraded the town, visiting the waggons with their knobkerry and assagai, threatening destruction to all the white men. The course which I thought best to take was to sit on my front waggon-box and smoke my pipe; time after time hundreds surrounding my waggon, raising their assagais as if to hurl them at me, and brandishing their kerries. Knowing the Kaffir character pretty well, I went on smoking as if they were most friendly, and seeing they could make no impression, they rushed away to other parts of the town. At last the chief sent round some of his councillors to all white men, ordering them all out of the town, bag and baggage, by four o’clock the next day. Mr Mackenzie, the missionary, left the day before to go to England. Not having anything particular to do, I, with the trader who came in with me, inspanned in the evening to trek towards Selene Pan, forty-five miles on the road to Molapololo, which we reached the following afternoon, and all that night and the next day traders came treking in, until thirty-six waggons had assembled and nearly fifty span of oxen, which looked more like a commando than traders flying from the wrath of a powerful chief. It was a very pretty sight. The man who committed this insult was too ill to be removed, and was left behind. He recovered, and, I think, became a wiser man. If it had occurred a few years before, he would have been killed, and the traders also. He richly deserved the punishment he received. This will show that the Kaffirs at that time had been brought under great control, for no greater offence could be given than an insult to their chief. Some little time after this affair, the chief, when solicited, allowed the traders to return.The chief Khama dresses well, and looks like a gentleman. Many of his people also dress, as well as the women. They are strong and well-made; some still wear their skin dresses and a profusion of beads and brass rings, but I think in a few years these will be abandoned for European clothes. Begging is still largely practised, particularly for tobacco. They cultivate corn, mealies, pumpkins, melons extensively, and have large herds of cattle of all kinds, which are kept at the different posts away from the town, and milk is brought in on pack-oxen to those who have no cows. They also make Kaffir beer from their Kaffir corn, and, if well-made, it is very nice. This is the only extensive interior trading-station in this region. There are other trading-stations beyond: at Tati gold-fields, and in Matabeleland, and also at Pontarnatinka, where Mr G. Westbeach has a large store, and others beyond, and also on the north side of the Zambese river, where a large and increasing trade is now being carried on by the English traders at the chief Secheke’s on the north side of the Zambese.The main direct road from Molapololo to Mongwato runs north-north-east through a bush country with fine trees. The distance is 133 miles, and very pretty, the formation being argillaceous limestone; most of the hills are sandstone. At a fountain at Koopan, twenty miles on this road, are some large masses of sandstone rocks, standing out like walls of an old castle that cover an extensive area. In these rocks are many fossil remains of seeds, nuts, shells, ammonites, and one trilobite, also footprints of animals. As it was impossible to obtain them, I remained two days to make correct sketches and measurements, being most interesting specimens. In many parts of the interior, where this light sandstone has been exposed by denudation, particularly in the deep beds of those dry rivers in the Kalahara, footprints are very numerous, which I have taken great care to copy, and also all the carvings on the rocks. The other permanent waters on this road are Bartlanarme in the chalk-pits, and Lepepe; also Selene pan. Both are favourite localities for the giraffe, and here I have remained several days to hunt them, and was fortunate enough to shoot one out of five that were coming to drink. Eight miles from Bartlanarme we shot two out of seven, and at another time Mr Hume, of Port Elizabeth, a hunter, came upon several, and shot three from the saddle, from my horse, which I lent him. One we had brought to the waggon, and left the other two for the Bushmen. The flesh is very fine. It is a pity such beautiful animals should be destroyed merely for food and skins. In this part almost every variety of game is to be found. Such a vast extent of open country—where the white man is never seen beyond the transport road, and its inhabitants Bushmen only,—extending in an uninterrupted forest westward 500 miles, and the same in breadth, is no small hunting-ground to roam over for a hunter to pick his game. Twenty years ago, I may say up to 1875, game, as well as lions, wolves, and other beasts of prey, were much more numerous than at the present time. In the north and west of Khama’s country up to the Zambese, along the Zouga river, are the great Makarakara pans, and others; the large game, such as elephants, rhinoceros, buffalo, and giraffe, were plentiful, but of late years many hunters have been for months and scarcely met with any.The country along the Zouga river is very level. This river enters, or, I may say, empties Lake N’gami, the altitude being 2813 feet, and flows to the great pan above-named in April and May, and in June and July flows into the lake. The only outlet for the surplus water of the Zouga is the Mababe river to the Chobe, one of the main streams of the Zambese, and the water in the Mababe flows either way according to the rainfall, showing the perfect level of the country. Gigantic trees grow along these rivers and the region adjoining; baobab, measuring 108 feet in girth, the palms, mapana, and other tropical trees and plants. A great portion of this country the chief Khama claims, where there are several kraals of the Makalaka, Batletle, Barutse, Bakalihari, and others, also many of the Mesere Bushmen, and a few Hottentots and Korannas. This region is a portion of the Zambese basin, and the northern part is infested with the tsetse-fly, the sting or bite of which is fatal to horses and cattle; but I have been told by the natives, that if calves and colts are bred in the fly-country, they are proof to the bite. We know that all the game in those districts are not affected by the bite, and that may be the reason.The sickly season is from September to May. Many parts are open, with little bush; another part of the desert is thick bush, and very scarce of water in the dry season, and is a part of what is called thirst-land (thirst) from the dryness of the country, and where the trek Boers suffered so much in their journey to the westward in 1877. In that year I was at Mongwato, and came in for my share a few months later, when there in October of that year. Mr Harry Shelton, who had a large store at Leshulatebes station, Lake N’gami, was coming to Mongwato with several of his waggons for goods, and two saddle-horses he had with him, having treked 150 miles along the road which skirts the river Zouga; he was obliged to leave his waggons and oxen, as no water would be found between that place and Mongwato, a distance of 160 miles, and came on with his two horses, but on the road was obliged to leave one of them from exhaustion, and managed to come in with the other, and was obliged to be lifted from the saddle on his arrival, having been nearly four days without water. On his return fourteen days after, he expected, of course, to see the horse dead and eaten by lions; but he found him standing by the same bush he was left at, and he recovered. This shows how long a horse may live under such circumstances. Horses, however, knock up far sooner than oxen from thirst. The lions and wolves must have forsaken the country as well as the game, otherwise the horse would have been eaten. Most of his oxen had died on his return, principally from licking the moist mud in the pans and river. When so many days without water they cannot drink when brought to it. The only means then of preserving their lives is to throw buckets of water over them; but this does not always succeed. Such are the trials and hardships we have to put up with in a region so liable to long seasons of drought, and where the country is so destitute of springs or standing water. But with all these drawbacks there is a fascination that impels one on to explore these remote and little-known regions. The bright and clear atmosphere, the lovely mornings and evenings for travelling, the constant change of scene, the splendid tints of the sunsets, and variety of foliage of the vegetation, the calmness of everything around, and the constant excitement of strange game to be seen, is a pleasure we can seldom enjoy, and, as I have before stated, the only true enjoyment in Africa is waggon travelling in the interior, where time is not limited.The watershed dividing the Zambese and the Limpopo basins runs to the east of the great Makarakara pans, in a north-east direction through the Mashona and Matabele country, and from the south-west to the Kalahara desert near Kaikai Pits, the elevation being 4260 feet above sea-level.The principal antelopes of this region are the eland, koodoo, gemsbok, sable, and leechy or lechi, pallah, ourebi, bonte, rooy, reit, bush and steinboks, springbok, hartebeest, giraffes, and grysbok, and the zebra, and many other kinds, which are all to be found in different localities; and legions of the ant-bear, porcupine, earth-wolf, earth-pig, spring-hare, meercats, and other smaller animals; wild boar and wild dogs are seen in large packs, sometimes only a few are together; consequently with the larger game there is always plenty of sport to be found, if hunting is the sole amusement; but, combined with natural history, geology, and other sciences, an explorer has not much idle time on his hands. Locusts made this part their breeding-ground, depositing their eggs by the million, and in October there would be immense tracts of country covered with them several inches deep. Before their wings came, and as the waggons travelled along the roads, thousands were killed at every turn of the wheels. The natives eat them, and some cattle are very fond of them also. It is nearly seven years since any have been seen in South Africa. There are many kinds of wild teas found in the veldt, which I have used for months, and like them. Fine forests of timber occupy a large portion of this region, other parts are more properly termed bush, although many trees grow in them, and extensive open plains. The fine flat-topped kameel doom is very common, palms, baobab, bockenhout or African beech, zuikerbosh, acacia, Kaffir orange, ebenhout or ebony, yellow wood or yeelhout, knopjis, doorn or lignum-vitae, cabbage tree, mahogany, sneezewood, wild olive and fig, stinkwood, salicwood, Orlean wood or African oak, vittkut, mimosa thorn, wagt-een-beitje, the African name is mongharn, and a host of other trees; tuberous roots of many varieties, some eaten by the natives, and are used medicinally, and others would make good paper—an endless variety of herbs, of which we at present know but little.The insect-world is legion; immense hairy spiders, and also the trap-door spider is a wonderful creature, the mechanism of hinge, door, and entrance are perfect works of art.I was told by some of the people at Mongwato that there are in Khama’s territory over 200 cattle-posts, in addition to vieh-posts for sheep and bucks. The main and only transport road from Mongwato to the Matabeleland passes along by the east end of the range of hills by the town, through a thick bush to the Mokalapsie river, thirty miles, a large and broad stream in the rainy season. Upon its banks are many cattle-posts, and it is much visited by lions. From this river the road continues in a north-north-east direction, crossing the metley or sand river, Tuane, on to Chakani pan, distant from Mongwato fifty-four miles, one of the most lovely spots on this road, where I spent three weeks exploring. I outspanned under a clump of trees close to the pan, but had to shift my waggon into the open, the trees being full of tree-toads, and large lizards occupied every hole in them. The toads would drop down on to my waggon and make themselves very comfortable on my boxes and bed. The large lizard had every look of being a dangerous reptile to have a bite from. They were beautifully marked, the front of the head had a well-shaped heart of a silver grey, with a well-shaped letter Y of a rich red brown. I endeavoured to obtain a specimen, but could not get them to come out.There are some very fine specimens of the euphorbia and lotus trees away in the bush, and also fine timber trees of other kinds. My delay here for three weeks was compulsory, as there was no water to be had beyond this point for 150 miles. This being part of the doorst land, and as the season had been very dry, all the pans were empty. I was compelled to wait until the storms, which are usual at this time of year (October), filled them. The last week of my stay severe thunderstorms were seen in the north every afternoon, which gave me hope of a good supply on the road, and occasionally we had severe storms at the pan, but not a drop of rain fell. The lightning was terrific; and the thunder following, rolling over the hills and forest trees, shaking the very ground, was grand. I always kept from three to four days’ supply of water in my waggons, in casks and iron cans, never leaving without having them filled, which I personally looked to. But in this case I omitted doing so, thinking my driver would attend to it, as I had been out early in the saddle after game, and arrived at the waggon as the oxen were inspanned ready to go forward, as I fully believed water would be plentiful; therefore, on leaving Chakani pan, I thought we were full up with water, instead of which we had only a day’s supply. To give a clearer insight what travelling is in a parched-up country like this, where rain has not fallen for six months, I will quote from my journal a week’s trek through it.Tuesday, October 16th.—Left Chakani pan at 9 a.m. Travelled over very heavy sand for nine miles to a large open vlei called Lemonie, which, when full of water, is nearly a mile in length, a great resort for wild-fowl and that beautiful bird the berg swallow, the size of a dove, with a brilliant golden copper-colour plumage on the back, and light salmon colour and sky-blue breast. This pan is surrounded by gentle rising ground with bush, where I endeavoured to secure some of those small birds that are rare even here, being of a dark golden-purple, and less in size than our common wren at home. Finding no water, I proceeded on to Lotsane river, nine miles, and outspanned for the night; no water. Found for the first time all our water-casks empty, my driver having forgotten to fill them at Chakani pan. Having explored up and down the river without finding any, after one kettle of coffee being made, went to bed, with the hope of finding water to-morrow.Wednesday, 17th, 4 a.m.—Sent my driver out and went myself to look for water; no signs of any. Treked three miles and outspanned to give oxen a feed on green young grass, as they have not had water since Monday afternoon. Went without coffee this morning to reserve what little we have for our mid-day meal, then it will be exhausted. This is the first time for twelve years I have been without water by my waggon.Thursday, 18th.—Retraced my steps six miles, as I met a Boer with his two waggons, who told me he had got a Bushman to show him where the oxen could get water, about two miles off the road, in the bush. Sent my span and boys down to it, but the water was so muddy I could not drink it; filled two bottles, such as it was. The Boer told me I could get good water eight miles beyond Phalasque vlei, the pan being a mile to the right of the road, then I could get water along the road to carry me to the Tati river; consequently, shall start early to-morrow to reach it.Friday, 19th.—Inspanned at 4 a.m. No sign of rain, although plenty of storms. Treked on to Phalasque vlei; no water. Then pushed on over a fearful sandy road at the rate of one and a half miles an hour. Thermometer 94 degrees in the waggon. This is a God-forsaken country, no people, no game, no birds, no water, nothing but hot sandy roads to travel over, but beautifully-wooded and fine grass. Reached the spot described by the Boer, saddled-up to look for the pan, found two, both dry. Treked on another five miles, and outspanned for the night; no water for man or beast; my forelooper drank up what little remained in the night. He is what is termed a Cape boy, a perfect beast in the way of eating and drinking. My driver, a Hottentot, is a fine fellow, good at everything.Saturday, 20th.—Sent Dirk forward early to look for water; went as far as Suruly Kop, nine miles, where I had always found water in the pan, but it was dry and hard. It was now getting serious, as I knew if this pan failed, there was very little chance of getting any this side of Tati, so I turned back six miles and remained the night where I had previously slept. Fortunately the grass was young and green for the oxen, which relieved them to some extent. No water these last two days, not a drop in the waggon; I have brandy, but could not take any, a small teaspoonful the stomach would not retain. To eat is out of the question; I have tried several times, but cannot swallow.Sunday morning, 21st.—Inspanned and retraced our steps six miles, as I intend to return to Chakani pan, where I know there is water. My driver asked for his rifle, as he would take a bushman-path through the bush, which he thought would lead to water. He left me about 11 a.m. All that day he never returned, which has given me great anxiety, knowing the country swarms with lions. All night kept firing off my rifle that he might know my whereabouts. At daybreak the wolves and jackals began to let me know they were not far off.Monday, 22nd.—Dirk, my driver, not returned. I shall never see him any more! Passed a fearfully anxious night; my thirst is intense; fourth day without a drop of liquid passing my lips. To stay here is death! Set to work with my forelooper, inspanned the oxen, and travelled night and day to reach Chakani. Arrived at Phalasque vlei at 11 a.m. Outspanned to give them a little green grass before going on. No sooner were they free from the yoke than they started off through the bush, evidently after water. My loop-boy I sent after them to bring them back, but instead of following them, he went behind some bushes and sat down. There I remained alone with my waggon in the dry veldt, my driver, as I thought, killed by lions, and now my oxen gone, and my boy nearly dead. The weather intensely hot, 106 degrees in the shade. I have only one chance; leave the waggon and all my belongings to be plundered by the Bushmen, and walk to Chakani, a distance of thirty miles. Whilst revolving this plan in my head, a Bushman came from under the trees to me. I made him understand I wanted him to fetch me a small tin of water; I offered him powder, caps, and other things, worth about two pounds; but he said it was far, pointing with his finger in the direction, and left me. I never saw him again. Having made up my mind to start the next morning by daybreak, with my rifle and a few biscuits, for the water, as it would not be safe at night for lions, I heard some footsteps coming on; looking in the direction, saw my driver Dirk within, a hundred yards. Never was I more pleased to see a human being, and gave him a good shake of the hand, but he brought no water. He told me after he left the waggon, the day before, he walked on for hours until it got dark, and he wandered about looking for water, so that he lost the direction he came. Hearing several lions, he selected a nice tree and climbed up, where he spent the night, and shot two large wolves. At daybreak he climbed down and found five Bushmen looking about; when they saw him they came up. He asked for water, but they said there was none, which Dirk believes was not true. They wanted to look at the gun, but he was wise enough to keep it from them; seeing he was alone, they might have kept it. However, he left them by the two dead wolves, and managed to strike the road, and saw the spoor of my waggon, and followed it down to where I was outspanned. When I told him of the forelooper and the oxen he said he would go at once and follow their spoor, otherwise we should never see them again, and asked for a little brandy to wash his mouth out, for he, as well as myself, could not articulate plainly, and then started after them about 5 p.m. I was again left alone to pass another sleepless night, and the fifth day without water or food. I frequently rinsed my mouth out with brandy, which kept my tongue from swelling. It was a lovely moonlight night, and, under other circumstances, I should have enjoyed it amazingly, for the country round was peculiar for the many stone koptjies, 150 feet in height, large masses of granite, piled up in most grotesque forms, with flowering plants growing between them. To pass away this anxious time I took my rifles to inspect them; on my return I found my poor little terrier dog on the point of death. I took him up in my lap; and with a piteous shriek he fell dead. Poor little thing, he must have suffered acutely. My other dog, “Bull,” died on Sunday, so here I am alone, 150 miles from any white man. Once more passed the night smoking on my waggon-box, the only thing that I could do, and about 11 a.m., on Tuesday 23rd, as I was lying down in my waggon, I caught the sound of oxen’s feet on the road, which proved to be mine, with my driver and forelooper bringing them on, and holding up a can to show me they had water. What a relief! we are saved!—for I was far too weak to walk alone 150 miles, and carry a rifle and food for so long a journey. My driver told me after he left yesterday to follow up the spoor of the oxen, he found my boy asleep under a bush, about a mile from the waggon, and took him with him, and after six hours’ walk came upon the oxen, where they had been drinking at a kind of swamp in a valley, and some twelve miles from the road we had travelled a few days before. Five Bushmen were driving them over the brow of the hill to be out of sight of any one looking after them.—Dirk fired his rifle to give them notice that some one was near, when the Bushmen dispersed out of sight, and he brought back the oxen as before stated. Five minutes later, and it might have been too late. It was a most fortunate recovery for us all, and for me in particular. The water, about three pints brought, was worth much more to us than its weight in gold. I took a few tea-spoonsful at a time, and with the rest we made some tea, and soon after inspanned and treked to Chakani pan, there to wait again for rain. After we had been a week there a very singular affair occurred. It happened to be one of those dark stormy nights without rain; my driver and the boy were sleeping in a tent attached to the waggon. About 2 a.m. he woke me and said there was some kind of an animal wanted to get under the waggon, being pursued by two others. It had twice got under, and being disturbed by the driver, left, but kept going round, still followed by two others. I was up with my rifle, for in these parts we are soon ready for what may turn up. At last the poor beast, whatever it was, took safety between the two after oxen as they were fastened to the waggon, and stood there quite quiet; the other two that followed stood a little way off. By stooping low to get the animal above the horizon, we found it was a large rooi buck, and the others were wild dogs that had been chasing it, until all three were completely exhausted, and could run no more. Jumping from the waggon I tried to get a fair shot at the dogs, but the uncertain light prevented my making a good shot. While so engaged my driver shot the poor buck that had come to us for safety, which I was very sorry for, as I wished to shoot the dogs, which we could have done as daylight was near, and then I would have let the poor beast go. One dog I did shoot, the other made his escape. On looking round the waggon in the morning the whole ground was covered with their spoor, and close to the waggon it was completely trampled; they must have run at least twenty miles before they came to us, from the exhausted state they were in. The most remarkable circumstance was that a buck in a wild country like this, seldom seeing a waggon, should have had the sense to know, for it is not what is called instinct, and should feel if he could get under the waggon, his pursuers would be afraid to follow, and he would be safe, so came to us for protection. I was much annoyed that my driver shot him, for he should certainly have had his liberty in the morning.The foregoing will give a slight idea of some of the trials explorers meet with in travelling through regions where water is so scarce. I remained at this pan up to 14th November; having consumed all the water in it, and still no rain, fearful thunderstorms without any, I was compelled to fall back on Mongwato, and retrace my steps fifty-four miles to procure it. During my long stay at this pan, I had very little sport, a few rooi bucks and guinea-fowl, also pheasants, partridges, and doves. I was always out with my gun, and my oxen grazed where they liked, knowing they would come for water once or twice a day, not thinking for a moment there were any dangerous animals near. But on the 14th, at 4 a.m., we were preparing coffee ready for a trek, when we saw two of the largest wild pigs I ever fell in with, come down to drink, not a hundred yards from the waggon, on the opposite side of the pan. One we soon secured, having received two shots, the other quickly escaped. This delayed us until 7 a.m., when we treked, and had not gone a quarter of a mile, passing a little stone kopjie, with beautiful euphorbia and other trees, when we saw, as we thought, six rooi bucks out on the outskirts of the wood, and 200 yards from the road. Finding they did not move, although they were looking at us, being in long grass we were deceived as to the nature of the animals, and when we were opposite we stopped. I and the driver jumped off the waggon with our rifles, with only one charge, and were walking up to them, when they seemed to be walking down towards us. I was about to fire when Dirk called out, “Don’t fire, they are tigers.” Lowering the rifle to have a better look, sure enough they were six beauties, with their sleek spotted coats, which made them look very handsome. As we were at least fifty yards from the waggon, if we had fired with no more ammunition, and they had come down upon us, it would have been very awkward. We therefore stood our ground, watching them stretch themselves on the ground, and then stand up, looking at us with heads erect, until they quietly turned into the wood; and we followed their example, and turned into the waggon. It was no use attempting to follow them up, we were only two, and could do very little, and they might have done a great deal to us. This hill is about a hundred and fifty feet high, and almost daily I have walked round and over it with my shot-gun, and saw nothing but guinea-fowl. And so ended this little leopard affair, and we proceeded on our way towards Mongwato, sadly inconvenienced for want of water for the oxen. But at Mokalapsie river, by digging two feet in the sand between the granite rocks in its bed, we obtained it in sufficient quantity to satisfy the oxen.The lions have been a great trouble to those who keep cattle-posts on this river-bank; the night before my arrival, they killed a horse belonging to Mr Francis. Many singular isolated conical hills, over a hundred feet in height, add greatly to the beauty of the scenery, but are great covers for the lion and leopard. Very warm, thermometer 102 degrees in the shade. Everything very dry. Pushed on to Mongwato for water. On my arrival there was told there was no water for oxen, and if rain does not fall the people will have to leave the town and go down to the Limpopo river. The chief Khama came to me and said he would take charge of my oxen and horse, and send them to the same kraal he sent them before, if I would send a man to look after them, with one of his, and keep them until wanted. This kind offer was gladly accepted, consequently I had to wait for rain. On the 21st November a Boer came in and told me rain had fallen in the north, and that I could now trek up; but as the other Boer I had met on the road deceived me, I took no notice of the information, and it turned out he wilfully deceived me. I spent many pleasant evenings with the Rev. Mr Hepburn and the traders at the station, musical parties at Francis’ store, and cricket matches in the day. Bought a muid of Boer meal, that is, wheat ground, for 4 pounds 10 shillings the 200 lbs. A few days later we had a fine storm, with heavy rain, and on the 26th started again for the north, and arrived again at Chakani pan on the 30th, which was full of nice fresh water, and found a troop of ostriches drinking at it. From thence I pushed on, the grass being burnt up by the drought, and arrived at Gowkwe river, one of the tributaries of the Limpopo, as are all those I crossed from Mongwato. Two miles back from this, to the right of the road, is the first baobab tree, a young one, twenty-seven feet in circumference, with several large nests, each forming quite a town. The entire country is a thick wood, stretching in every direction hundreds of miles. The belief does not hold good in this region that forests bring rain, for it is one of the driest parts of Central South Africa, and has been named thirst-land, from its proverbial dryness, as my experience can also testify. From December to the following May water may be obtained; the rest of the year it is like what I have already described, consequently game is scarce in the dry season; it always follows the rain.From Gowkwe river the road continues on to the river Shasha, the boundary the chief Khama claimed when he gave me his boundary-line, but this the Matabele king disputes, and claims down to the Macloutsie river, and, in fact, all Khama’s country, from previous conquest, but Khama holds possession. The road from Gowkwe crosses several rivers between it and the Shasha. The Sand river is broad and pretty, and falls into the Macloutsie, which is about the same size, tributaries of the Limpopo. They rise in the hill district of the watershed separating the Zambese basin from the Limpopo. The distance from Mongwato to the Shasha by road is 163 miles, crossing the Shasha river, where we find granite and gneiss rocks, the sand being very deep in its bed, which is about 100 yards broad, with very steep banks on both sides. No water is ever found in any of these rivers, except in the rainy season, and then it comes down with a rush, sometimes rising twenty feet, but lasts only a few days or weeks. This river, according to the chief Khama, is his northern boundary, but this Lo-Bengulu, the Matabele king, will not acknowledge. However, after crossing the river, the road continues north for six miles, and the Tati river is crossed, of the same size and character as the Shasha. On its northern bank is the Tati station, where there are a few houses occupied by English traders, and a few Boer families, and the ruins of the large building once the store of the Tati Gold Company, under Sir John Swinbourne, which will be more fully described in a future chapter. The road branches off from the Tati station, runs in a north-west direction nearly the entire way. The main road from Tati to Matabeleland runs nearly north. The roads through the western portion of Khama’s territory leave Ba-Mangwato station and go west for thirty-five miles, where the road branches off at Khabala sand-pits from the Lake N’gami road, and continues north for 129 miles until the large brak vlei Makarakara is reached. Thirty miles from Khabala pits there are two roads at Loata, which join again at Makwa pits, a distance of sixty-four miles between the two. Thirty five miles beyond is Berg fountain, close to the great vlei above-named. The road continues along the eastern shore sixty-six miles to the north-east point of the vlei, where the Nata falls into it. From the crossing of the Nata to Daka the road runs in a north-north-east direction, the distance being 167 miles, passing many vleis; the principal ones treking north are Veremoklane, twenty miles, great Ramakanyane, eighteen miles, Tamakanya vlei, seventeen miles, Juruka vlei, Tamafo pan, Tamasibu vlei, Stoffolds vlei, Henvicks vlei, Tabikies vlei, which is twenty miles south of Daka. The road to Panda-ma-Tenka is eighteen miles, where Mr George Westbeach has a large store, and is the principal trader for all that region, even to beyond the Zambese river at Seshekes and the country round. He has a store there, and another nearer the Victoria Falls, seven miles beyond his large store. All this part of the country is drained by sluits running to the Zimboya river, which is a small tributary of the Zambese, which it enters about sixty miles below the falls, together with another small branch, Lutuisi river, that falls into the great river about ten miles below the Zimboya at a great bend of the Zambese, both passing through Wankie’s territory, which now belongs to the Matabele king. From Mr Westbeach’s great store to the Victoria Falls is about thirty-two miles. At the falls, or above the fall, the river is nearly a mile in width, and is 2580 feet above sea-level. The perpendicular fall extends the whole way, falling into a narrow fissure to some 200 feet in depth, but the opposite or lower side is so close, and on nearly the same level with the upper fall, that it is impossible to see the bottom from the perpetual mist or spray that rises near the centre of the fall. The outlet of the water passes down a narrow gorge in a sort of zigzag shape, between lofty rocks, rushing down at a great speed until the river opens out. It is impossible to take any accurate drawings of the falls, there is no position in which an artist can take up a position to make an accurate drawing. I have seen many, but they are greatly deficient in portraying the falls as they are, or giving a correct idea of their magnificence. The island on the south side immediately on the brink of the fall adds much beauty to the scene. The tropical trees and plants growing everywhere about add an extra charm to the landscape. Thirty-seven miles above the falls the Chobe river, one of the main branches of the Zambese, comes in, which, as described in the river basin system, forms the northern boundary of the chief Khama’s territory, that is, from the Victoria Falls to the Chobe, up that river for forty-five miles, then crosses the desert to the Sira pan on south, crossing the Zouga or Bot-let-le river to Dorokarra kraal in a south-west direction to Makapolo vlei, which is the extreme western point, then turns south-east, crossing the desert to Selene pan, which is forty-five miles south of Mongwato, then down to the junction of the Notuane and Limpopo. South of this line belongs to the chief Sechele, and the western boundary to the chief Molemo at Lake N’gami. The road from Walfish Bay to the Victoria Falls passes south of this lake to Batuana town, where the chief Molemo rules, along the south side of the Zouga to the town of Dorokarra, where it crosses on to the north side, past the tree with feet, going east along by the pits and pools, salt-pan, seven palms, to Mahutu, then turns nearly north, and joins the other road from Mongwato, at Garuga, on to Panda-ma-Tenka, Mr Westbeach’s stores, and Victoria Falls, which are called Mosioatanga. The road to Mongwato from Molemo’s town is the same to Dorokarra, then turns south-east, following the river to Kumadua lake or vlei, which is part of the Zouga river, then strikes east to Nchokotsa, and from thence south-east to Mongwato, passing several pans, the most permanent waters being at Klakane and Inkotsanges lime-pits. Where the road leaves the Zouga there is a drift, and a road runs due north, passing through the western end of the great Salt vlei Ntwetwe, on past the great baobab letter-tree, passing a salt-pan on the left, crossing the road going to the Victoria Falls, on to Kamakama, through the sandy forest of mapani trees to the Mababe river and Linyanti on the Chobe, the chief Skeletu’s town. Several other roads cross this part of the desert from Panda-ma-Tenka. The distance by road from Lake N’gami is 335 miles, that is, 170 from the lake to Kumadua lake, and 165 from there to Mongwato, consequently in a very dry season there is no water to be obtained in this last distance, and where the trek Boers, in 1877, lost so many of their people, oxen, and waggons. There are many hundred pans, but dry in winter. There is game of every kind all over this region, but they follow the water. The great brak pan, Makarakara, is also dry at that time. When water is in, it is over fifty miles, both north and south, quite an inland sea. Sand is everywhere, the roads are fearful, quite up to the Mababe river.Many of the mapani trees grow to a great size; the leaf has a sweet gummy sort of varnish, of which the elephants are very fond. The palm grows about forty feet in height; the wood is very hard, an axe with a hard blow will not penetrate. The gigantic tree, the baobab, grows extensively over all these regions. They are prominent objects in the country through which you pass. Many of the stems exceed in circumference 100 feet; their height is not in proportion to the bole; few exceed eighty feet. The tree spreads and covers a large extent of ground; the bark is used to make ropes, and blankets can be manufactured from it. I obtained one, which is exceedingly strong. Bags are also made to hold water or milk. The fruit is used to make a refreshing drink. This tree is also called the Cream of Tartar; the fruit is similar and much larger than an ostrich egg. These trees are calculated to be, the largest of them, nearly 5000 years old.The country generally is flat; there are a few hills down by the Zimboya and Lutuisi rivers to Wankie’s, on the river, conical and flat-topped. But this part is out of Khama’s territory. All east of Panda-ma-Tenka now belongs to the Matabele king. Wankie’s people and town are now on the north side of the Zambese. To the west of that station is the Lechuma Valley. South of Daka the land rises gradually from the Victoria Falls, the falls being 2580 feet above sea-level, and the land south of Daka is 3900 feet at the highest point. The southern slopes gradually down to an altitude of 2813 feet near the great Salt vlei Makarakara. The sickly season is from September to May. South of the Zouga the land rises gradually until it reaches the central watershed, at an altitude of 4260 feet. At all the permanent waters and along the rivers are kraals occupied by many tribes, under the chief Khama, who, with the greater portion of his people, belongs to the Bakalihari tribe. The distance of the Victoria Falls from Ba-Mangwato is 400 miles, and the distance from Walfish Bay to the falls is 1150 miles.

From the last outspan on the Notuane, at the junction of the Limpopo, mentioned in the last chapter, the road for eight miles is close to the bank of the Limpopo river, where I had some fishing, but instead of catching any fish, I caught a young iguana, two feet long, and had great difficulty to land him. It was necessary to kill the beast to release the hook. At the bend of the river the road turns north-west, and goes on to Ba-Mangwato. There are several cattle-posts at the bend belonging to Khama’s people and the traders at that station; and also immense ant-hills, of the same kind as those at Motsodie. I measured one, twenty feet high and nearly sixty feet in circumference, made by these little white ants; my waggon looked quite small beside it.

The climate here is very peculiar, hot sun, 99 degrees in the shade, with cold blasts of wind every four or five minutes in regular waves, reducing the heat to 70 degrees, which we feel very cold. This is one great cause of rheumatism and fever. To-day was almost melting with heat; I took shelter under the waggon, but had not been there three minutes when I had to get into the waggon, being so cold from the wind, which feels as if it came from a frozen region. If in a violent perspiration, fever comes on, if care is not taken to prevent a chill. The road from this place to Mongwato is fifty-five miles. In the dry season there are only three places where water can be obtained.

On one of the tributaries of the Limpopo is a circular rock in the veldt, no other stones near it, fifteen feet in diameter, and similar in shape to a ball cut through the centre, and placed on the ground, only it belongs to the rock beneath the soil. This rock has been covered with carvings, the greater portion of which is nearly smooth by large animals rubbing against it, giving it quite a polish. Sufficient lines are left to show it has been well cut with some sort of figures, and on one side where it curves in a little, and is out of the way of elephants, rhinoceros, and other animals, the carvings are nearly perfect. They represent paths with trees and fruit on each side; upon one is a snake crawling down with a fruit or round ball in its mouth, near it is a figure, and a little distance off another figure with wings, almost like an iguana, flying towards a man who is running away; his left foot is similar to that of a horse, the right one has two points—evidently Satan; the intermediate spaces have many stars. The upper part of the stone has, in the centre, a small hollow of a cup-shape, with two circles of the same round the centre one. It is a very interesting monument, and appears to be very old, from the fact of the other portions being partly obliterated by the rubbing of animals against it. The rock is very hard and similar to those geologists call igneous. There are many rocks of the same description, with carvings of animals, snakes, and figures on them, and from their position they have been preserved from animals defacing them. In several parts of the country many of them are well executed.

A few days previous to my arrival here in 1877, three Boers, with their waggons, were endeavouring to find a new drift in the Limpopo river, and went in to cross to the opposite side. They had nearly reached the bank, when the foremost looked round and saw a large crocodile come up from the water and seize the head of the last man between his jaws, and disappear with him. His name was Herman, a married man, twenty-six years of age. Nothing more was seen of him but blood in the water. His widow, a few months after, consoled herself with another husband. At this time, soon after the British Government had annexed the Transvaal, the Boers, wherever I met them, were always friendly—so much so, that I have often been invited to take one of their daughters for a wife. They were rather proud to have an Englishman for a son-in-law. I was outspanned not many weeks back at a very pretty pool of water, or spring, the water of which fell into the Notuane river, in what is termed the Bush Veldt, that I might have a little shooting. The second day an old Boer and his wife came to me to ask if I would buy some ostrich feathers, taking me to be a trader, for all Englishmen travelling through the country will do a little in the way of barter; therefore I told them if they were good I would. When coffee was handed to them as a matter of custom, they asked where my wife was. On stating I was single, the old vrow said I must have one of her daughters; she had two mooi (pretty) girls, and would bring them the next day for me to see when she brought the feathers. Accordingly, the next day, true to her promise, she came with the old man and her two girls to the waggon; both very young, the eldest not more than seventeen, and not bad-looking for Dutch girls, apparently very modest and shy, with a conscious look of what they were brought for. After settling about the feathers, the old mother pointed out her daughters to me, and told me, pointing to the eldest, she would make me a mooi vrow, and that she had a farm of her own and some stock. Both the girls, sitting together by their mother, looked down and giggled every now and again, giving me sly glances from beneath their cappies (the usual covering for the head for old and young), and then another giggle. They had evidently been got up for the occasion by their smart dresses, well-made English boots, and clean white stockings, to show off a pretty foot and ankle, which certainly they both possessed, and were not backward in showing. This is very unusual, they generally have clumsy feet. When at home these articles are never worn, only leather shoes called veldtscoons, which the men make. They say—which is quite true—that stockings are dirty when you walk about in a sandy country. However, after a long visit, coffee and biscuits, I arranged that on my return I would come and pay them a visit, and talk over the matter, as my opinion was either of them would make excellent vrows, and left the best of friends. The old woman’s last words were, “You can take my daughter as soon as you come for her,” and an encouraging glance from the daughter terminated this interesting meeting, enhanced, as it was, by the anticipation of having the felicity soon to possess so charming a young lady. I have had many such offers from Boers, who were favourable to Englishmen at that time. However, unfortunately my pursuits called me in another direction.

The country between the Limpopo and Ba-Mangwato, the chief Khama’s station, is very pretty, plenty of guinea-fowls, partridges, and pows. Far away from the road on the left, seven miles from the bend of the Limpopo, is a large pan where lions are always known to be, and beyond is Brakwater, where ten years before I lost an ox from out of my cattle kraal one dark night when outspanned. It is the custom, with all travellers when in the Lion Veldt to kraal their cattle at night. Seventeen miles beyond Brakwater are the Khamitsie Pits, where water seldom fails, and close to them is a large dry pan quite a mile in length. The road passing round at the upper end, and fifteen miles beyond, winds through the veldt into the ancient river-bed leading to Mongwato. The whole region for hundreds of miles is one continuation of wood, inhabited by a few Bushmen. The country for so many months without water is uninhabitable, except at the springs. The distance by this river road from Molapololo to Mongwato is 164 miles.

Ba-Mangwato, or Shoshong, is the chief town of Khama. The chief Sekomo ruled at this station, until Machin, his brother, drove him from the chieftainship, and at Machin’s death, after considerable fighting, Khama, son of Sekomo, became the chief of the people over this territory. They belong to the Bakalihari tribe of the Bechuana family. It is a very important station, situated at the foot of a long range of beautiful hills, and up an opening in the range, where an ancient river-bed passes through, and where the mission station and church are situated, it is one of the most romantic valleys in this part of the country. When I first knew the station, the Rev. Mr Mackenzie had charge, now the Rev. Mr Hepburn lives in a very comfortable house up this kloof. The hills are formed of various kinds of sandstone of a brown colour. At the back, some distance beyond the church, is a very singular hill, with a perpendicular cliff on the upper portion. The stratification makes it look like a regular wall, with its horizontal layers so regularly placed. In Sekomo’s and Machin’s time the town was much larger, but since the wars it is considerably diminished. The chief Khama lives in the lower town, and has only one wife, being a good Christian and a great help to the missionary. The traders’ stores are also in the lower town, and form quite a little village by themselves. Messrs Francis and Clark have a fine store, and a building which is occasionally used as a concert-hall by the traders, who sometimes muster in considerable numbers, and out of so many a good band is got together. Most of those stationed there are splendid musicians, both vocally and instrumentally, so that many an enjoyable evening is spent to break the monotony of a life so far removed from the outer world. They have also their cricket matches, horse races, lawn tennis, football, and other sports. Mr Hepburn is indefatigable in his mission labour in civilising the natives, combined with the good example set them by the traders at the station. The chief Khama is a gentleman in every sense of the word. I have met him and felt much pleasure in his society. He has prohibited spirits being sold to his people, and on my last visit but one he did me a great service, and helped me in the most kind way by taking charge of my oxen when I had been two days without water, having arrived at Mongwato expecting to obtain some, but there was not a drop, not sufficient even for the people. On hearing of my arrival, he came down and took my oxen in his charge, sent them with one of his herds to his cattle-post eighteen miles away on the river Mokalapse, to the north of the town, and kept them there for twelve days, until I could trek to Matabeleland. He requires all travellers who enter his territory to call upon him, that he may know who is passing through, in case they require any help he can give. Those who avoid doing so, if they get into trouble, must get out of it the best way they can. All the roads from the south meet at Mongwato; one goes to Lake N’gami, another to the Chobe, two to the Zambese, and one main road to the Matabeleland, with branches leading to the Victoria Falls.

The people at one time were very unruly and troublesome to travellers. In 1868 I was at the station when a trader came in with some brandy; we outspanned close together outside the town. The next day the traders at the station, and there were some fourteen, indulged too much; one in particular had so far forgotten himself as to take a leg of pork to the kotla or council enclosure, where the chief Machin was sitting with his councillors, and held the leg of pork in the chief’s face, and asked if he liked the smell. These Kaffirs are like the Jews with respect to pork. This created an uproar in the station; the trader was severely beaten, and the whole town turned out to kill all the white men. They, hearing of this, fortified themselves in their stores. Hundreds of Kaffirs paraded the town, visiting the waggons with their knobkerry and assagai, threatening destruction to all the white men. The course which I thought best to take was to sit on my front waggon-box and smoke my pipe; time after time hundreds surrounding my waggon, raising their assagais as if to hurl them at me, and brandishing their kerries. Knowing the Kaffir character pretty well, I went on smoking as if they were most friendly, and seeing they could make no impression, they rushed away to other parts of the town. At last the chief sent round some of his councillors to all white men, ordering them all out of the town, bag and baggage, by four o’clock the next day. Mr Mackenzie, the missionary, left the day before to go to England. Not having anything particular to do, I, with the trader who came in with me, inspanned in the evening to trek towards Selene Pan, forty-five miles on the road to Molapololo, which we reached the following afternoon, and all that night and the next day traders came treking in, until thirty-six waggons had assembled and nearly fifty span of oxen, which looked more like a commando than traders flying from the wrath of a powerful chief. It was a very pretty sight. The man who committed this insult was too ill to be removed, and was left behind. He recovered, and, I think, became a wiser man. If it had occurred a few years before, he would have been killed, and the traders also. He richly deserved the punishment he received. This will show that the Kaffirs at that time had been brought under great control, for no greater offence could be given than an insult to their chief. Some little time after this affair, the chief, when solicited, allowed the traders to return.

The chief Khama dresses well, and looks like a gentleman. Many of his people also dress, as well as the women. They are strong and well-made; some still wear their skin dresses and a profusion of beads and brass rings, but I think in a few years these will be abandoned for European clothes. Begging is still largely practised, particularly for tobacco. They cultivate corn, mealies, pumpkins, melons extensively, and have large herds of cattle of all kinds, which are kept at the different posts away from the town, and milk is brought in on pack-oxen to those who have no cows. They also make Kaffir beer from their Kaffir corn, and, if well-made, it is very nice. This is the only extensive interior trading-station in this region. There are other trading-stations beyond: at Tati gold-fields, and in Matabeleland, and also at Pontarnatinka, where Mr G. Westbeach has a large store, and others beyond, and also on the north side of the Zambese river, where a large and increasing trade is now being carried on by the English traders at the chief Secheke’s on the north side of the Zambese.

The main direct road from Molapololo to Mongwato runs north-north-east through a bush country with fine trees. The distance is 133 miles, and very pretty, the formation being argillaceous limestone; most of the hills are sandstone. At a fountain at Koopan, twenty miles on this road, are some large masses of sandstone rocks, standing out like walls of an old castle that cover an extensive area. In these rocks are many fossil remains of seeds, nuts, shells, ammonites, and one trilobite, also footprints of animals. As it was impossible to obtain them, I remained two days to make correct sketches and measurements, being most interesting specimens. In many parts of the interior, where this light sandstone has been exposed by denudation, particularly in the deep beds of those dry rivers in the Kalahara, footprints are very numerous, which I have taken great care to copy, and also all the carvings on the rocks. The other permanent waters on this road are Bartlanarme in the chalk-pits, and Lepepe; also Selene pan. Both are favourite localities for the giraffe, and here I have remained several days to hunt them, and was fortunate enough to shoot one out of five that were coming to drink. Eight miles from Bartlanarme we shot two out of seven, and at another time Mr Hume, of Port Elizabeth, a hunter, came upon several, and shot three from the saddle, from my horse, which I lent him. One we had brought to the waggon, and left the other two for the Bushmen. The flesh is very fine. It is a pity such beautiful animals should be destroyed merely for food and skins. In this part almost every variety of game is to be found. Such a vast extent of open country—where the white man is never seen beyond the transport road, and its inhabitants Bushmen only,—extending in an uninterrupted forest westward 500 miles, and the same in breadth, is no small hunting-ground to roam over for a hunter to pick his game. Twenty years ago, I may say up to 1875, game, as well as lions, wolves, and other beasts of prey, were much more numerous than at the present time. In the north and west of Khama’s country up to the Zambese, along the Zouga river, are the great Makarakara pans, and others; the large game, such as elephants, rhinoceros, buffalo, and giraffe, were plentiful, but of late years many hunters have been for months and scarcely met with any.

The country along the Zouga river is very level. This river enters, or, I may say, empties Lake N’gami, the altitude being 2813 feet, and flows to the great pan above-named in April and May, and in June and July flows into the lake. The only outlet for the surplus water of the Zouga is the Mababe river to the Chobe, one of the main streams of the Zambese, and the water in the Mababe flows either way according to the rainfall, showing the perfect level of the country. Gigantic trees grow along these rivers and the region adjoining; baobab, measuring 108 feet in girth, the palms, mapana, and other tropical trees and plants. A great portion of this country the chief Khama claims, where there are several kraals of the Makalaka, Batletle, Barutse, Bakalihari, and others, also many of the Mesere Bushmen, and a few Hottentots and Korannas. This region is a portion of the Zambese basin, and the northern part is infested with the tsetse-fly, the sting or bite of which is fatal to horses and cattle; but I have been told by the natives, that if calves and colts are bred in the fly-country, they are proof to the bite. We know that all the game in those districts are not affected by the bite, and that may be the reason.

The sickly season is from September to May. Many parts are open, with little bush; another part of the desert is thick bush, and very scarce of water in the dry season, and is a part of what is called thirst-land (thirst) from the dryness of the country, and where the trek Boers suffered so much in their journey to the westward in 1877. In that year I was at Mongwato, and came in for my share a few months later, when there in October of that year. Mr Harry Shelton, who had a large store at Leshulatebes station, Lake N’gami, was coming to Mongwato with several of his waggons for goods, and two saddle-horses he had with him, having treked 150 miles along the road which skirts the river Zouga; he was obliged to leave his waggons and oxen, as no water would be found between that place and Mongwato, a distance of 160 miles, and came on with his two horses, but on the road was obliged to leave one of them from exhaustion, and managed to come in with the other, and was obliged to be lifted from the saddle on his arrival, having been nearly four days without water. On his return fourteen days after, he expected, of course, to see the horse dead and eaten by lions; but he found him standing by the same bush he was left at, and he recovered. This shows how long a horse may live under such circumstances. Horses, however, knock up far sooner than oxen from thirst. The lions and wolves must have forsaken the country as well as the game, otherwise the horse would have been eaten. Most of his oxen had died on his return, principally from licking the moist mud in the pans and river. When so many days without water they cannot drink when brought to it. The only means then of preserving their lives is to throw buckets of water over them; but this does not always succeed. Such are the trials and hardships we have to put up with in a region so liable to long seasons of drought, and where the country is so destitute of springs or standing water. But with all these drawbacks there is a fascination that impels one on to explore these remote and little-known regions. The bright and clear atmosphere, the lovely mornings and evenings for travelling, the constant change of scene, the splendid tints of the sunsets, and variety of foliage of the vegetation, the calmness of everything around, and the constant excitement of strange game to be seen, is a pleasure we can seldom enjoy, and, as I have before stated, the only true enjoyment in Africa is waggon travelling in the interior, where time is not limited.

The watershed dividing the Zambese and the Limpopo basins runs to the east of the great Makarakara pans, in a north-east direction through the Mashona and Matabele country, and from the south-west to the Kalahara desert near Kaikai Pits, the elevation being 4260 feet above sea-level.

The principal antelopes of this region are the eland, koodoo, gemsbok, sable, and leechy or lechi, pallah, ourebi, bonte, rooy, reit, bush and steinboks, springbok, hartebeest, giraffes, and grysbok, and the zebra, and many other kinds, which are all to be found in different localities; and legions of the ant-bear, porcupine, earth-wolf, earth-pig, spring-hare, meercats, and other smaller animals; wild boar and wild dogs are seen in large packs, sometimes only a few are together; consequently with the larger game there is always plenty of sport to be found, if hunting is the sole amusement; but, combined with natural history, geology, and other sciences, an explorer has not much idle time on his hands. Locusts made this part their breeding-ground, depositing their eggs by the million, and in October there would be immense tracts of country covered with them several inches deep. Before their wings came, and as the waggons travelled along the roads, thousands were killed at every turn of the wheels. The natives eat them, and some cattle are very fond of them also. It is nearly seven years since any have been seen in South Africa. There are many kinds of wild teas found in the veldt, which I have used for months, and like them. Fine forests of timber occupy a large portion of this region, other parts are more properly termed bush, although many trees grow in them, and extensive open plains. The fine flat-topped kameel doom is very common, palms, baobab, bockenhout or African beech, zuikerbosh, acacia, Kaffir orange, ebenhout or ebony, yellow wood or yeelhout, knopjis, doorn or lignum-vitae, cabbage tree, mahogany, sneezewood, wild olive and fig, stinkwood, salicwood, Orlean wood or African oak, vittkut, mimosa thorn, wagt-een-beitje, the African name is mongharn, and a host of other trees; tuberous roots of many varieties, some eaten by the natives, and are used medicinally, and others would make good paper—an endless variety of herbs, of which we at present know but little.

The insect-world is legion; immense hairy spiders, and also the trap-door spider is a wonderful creature, the mechanism of hinge, door, and entrance are perfect works of art.

I was told by some of the people at Mongwato that there are in Khama’s territory over 200 cattle-posts, in addition to vieh-posts for sheep and bucks. The main and only transport road from Mongwato to the Matabeleland passes along by the east end of the range of hills by the town, through a thick bush to the Mokalapsie river, thirty miles, a large and broad stream in the rainy season. Upon its banks are many cattle-posts, and it is much visited by lions. From this river the road continues in a north-north-east direction, crossing the metley or sand river, Tuane, on to Chakani pan, distant from Mongwato fifty-four miles, one of the most lovely spots on this road, where I spent three weeks exploring. I outspanned under a clump of trees close to the pan, but had to shift my waggon into the open, the trees being full of tree-toads, and large lizards occupied every hole in them. The toads would drop down on to my waggon and make themselves very comfortable on my boxes and bed. The large lizard had every look of being a dangerous reptile to have a bite from. They were beautifully marked, the front of the head had a well-shaped heart of a silver grey, with a well-shaped letter Y of a rich red brown. I endeavoured to obtain a specimen, but could not get them to come out.

There are some very fine specimens of the euphorbia and lotus trees away in the bush, and also fine timber trees of other kinds. My delay here for three weeks was compulsory, as there was no water to be had beyond this point for 150 miles. This being part of the doorst land, and as the season had been very dry, all the pans were empty. I was compelled to wait until the storms, which are usual at this time of year (October), filled them. The last week of my stay severe thunderstorms were seen in the north every afternoon, which gave me hope of a good supply on the road, and occasionally we had severe storms at the pan, but not a drop of rain fell. The lightning was terrific; and the thunder following, rolling over the hills and forest trees, shaking the very ground, was grand. I always kept from three to four days’ supply of water in my waggons, in casks and iron cans, never leaving without having them filled, which I personally looked to. But in this case I omitted doing so, thinking my driver would attend to it, as I had been out early in the saddle after game, and arrived at the waggon as the oxen were inspanned ready to go forward, as I fully believed water would be plentiful; therefore, on leaving Chakani pan, I thought we were full up with water, instead of which we had only a day’s supply. To give a clearer insight what travelling is in a parched-up country like this, where rain has not fallen for six months, I will quote from my journal a week’s trek through it.

Tuesday, October 16th.—Left Chakani pan at 9 a.m. Travelled over very heavy sand for nine miles to a large open vlei called Lemonie, which, when full of water, is nearly a mile in length, a great resort for wild-fowl and that beautiful bird the berg swallow, the size of a dove, with a brilliant golden copper-colour plumage on the back, and light salmon colour and sky-blue breast. This pan is surrounded by gentle rising ground with bush, where I endeavoured to secure some of those small birds that are rare even here, being of a dark golden-purple, and less in size than our common wren at home. Finding no water, I proceeded on to Lotsane river, nine miles, and outspanned for the night; no water. Found for the first time all our water-casks empty, my driver having forgotten to fill them at Chakani pan. Having explored up and down the river without finding any, after one kettle of coffee being made, went to bed, with the hope of finding water to-morrow.

Wednesday, 17th, 4 a.m.—Sent my driver out and went myself to look for water; no signs of any. Treked three miles and outspanned to give oxen a feed on green young grass, as they have not had water since Monday afternoon. Went without coffee this morning to reserve what little we have for our mid-day meal, then it will be exhausted. This is the first time for twelve years I have been without water by my waggon.

Thursday, 18th.—Retraced my steps six miles, as I met a Boer with his two waggons, who told me he had got a Bushman to show him where the oxen could get water, about two miles off the road, in the bush. Sent my span and boys down to it, but the water was so muddy I could not drink it; filled two bottles, such as it was. The Boer told me I could get good water eight miles beyond Phalasque vlei, the pan being a mile to the right of the road, then I could get water along the road to carry me to the Tati river; consequently, shall start early to-morrow to reach it.

Friday, 19th.—Inspanned at 4 a.m. No sign of rain, although plenty of storms. Treked on to Phalasque vlei; no water. Then pushed on over a fearful sandy road at the rate of one and a half miles an hour. Thermometer 94 degrees in the waggon. This is a God-forsaken country, no people, no game, no birds, no water, nothing but hot sandy roads to travel over, but beautifully-wooded and fine grass. Reached the spot described by the Boer, saddled-up to look for the pan, found two, both dry. Treked on another five miles, and outspanned for the night; no water for man or beast; my forelooper drank up what little remained in the night. He is what is termed a Cape boy, a perfect beast in the way of eating and drinking. My driver, a Hottentot, is a fine fellow, good at everything.

Saturday, 20th.—Sent Dirk forward early to look for water; went as far as Suruly Kop, nine miles, where I had always found water in the pan, but it was dry and hard. It was now getting serious, as I knew if this pan failed, there was very little chance of getting any this side of Tati, so I turned back six miles and remained the night where I had previously slept. Fortunately the grass was young and green for the oxen, which relieved them to some extent. No water these last two days, not a drop in the waggon; I have brandy, but could not take any, a small teaspoonful the stomach would not retain. To eat is out of the question; I have tried several times, but cannot swallow.

Sunday morning, 21st.—Inspanned and retraced our steps six miles, as I intend to return to Chakani pan, where I know there is water. My driver asked for his rifle, as he would take a bushman-path through the bush, which he thought would lead to water. He left me about 11 a.m. All that day he never returned, which has given me great anxiety, knowing the country swarms with lions. All night kept firing off my rifle that he might know my whereabouts. At daybreak the wolves and jackals began to let me know they were not far off.

Monday, 22nd.—Dirk, my driver, not returned. I shall never see him any more! Passed a fearfully anxious night; my thirst is intense; fourth day without a drop of liquid passing my lips. To stay here is death! Set to work with my forelooper, inspanned the oxen, and travelled night and day to reach Chakani. Arrived at Phalasque vlei at 11 a.m. Outspanned to give them a little green grass before going on. No sooner were they free from the yoke than they started off through the bush, evidently after water. My loop-boy I sent after them to bring them back, but instead of following them, he went behind some bushes and sat down. There I remained alone with my waggon in the dry veldt, my driver, as I thought, killed by lions, and now my oxen gone, and my boy nearly dead. The weather intensely hot, 106 degrees in the shade. I have only one chance; leave the waggon and all my belongings to be plundered by the Bushmen, and walk to Chakani, a distance of thirty miles. Whilst revolving this plan in my head, a Bushman came from under the trees to me. I made him understand I wanted him to fetch me a small tin of water; I offered him powder, caps, and other things, worth about two pounds; but he said it was far, pointing with his finger in the direction, and left me. I never saw him again. Having made up my mind to start the next morning by daybreak, with my rifle and a few biscuits, for the water, as it would not be safe at night for lions, I heard some footsteps coming on; looking in the direction, saw my driver Dirk within, a hundred yards. Never was I more pleased to see a human being, and gave him a good shake of the hand, but he brought no water. He told me after he left the waggon, the day before, he walked on for hours until it got dark, and he wandered about looking for water, so that he lost the direction he came. Hearing several lions, he selected a nice tree and climbed up, where he spent the night, and shot two large wolves. At daybreak he climbed down and found five Bushmen looking about; when they saw him they came up. He asked for water, but they said there was none, which Dirk believes was not true. They wanted to look at the gun, but he was wise enough to keep it from them; seeing he was alone, they might have kept it. However, he left them by the two dead wolves, and managed to strike the road, and saw the spoor of my waggon, and followed it down to where I was outspanned. When I told him of the forelooper and the oxen he said he would go at once and follow their spoor, otherwise we should never see them again, and asked for a little brandy to wash his mouth out, for he, as well as myself, could not articulate plainly, and then started after them about 5 p.m. I was again left alone to pass another sleepless night, and the fifth day without water or food. I frequently rinsed my mouth out with brandy, which kept my tongue from swelling. It was a lovely moonlight night, and, under other circumstances, I should have enjoyed it amazingly, for the country round was peculiar for the many stone koptjies, 150 feet in height, large masses of granite, piled up in most grotesque forms, with flowering plants growing between them. To pass away this anxious time I took my rifles to inspect them; on my return I found my poor little terrier dog on the point of death. I took him up in my lap; and with a piteous shriek he fell dead. Poor little thing, he must have suffered acutely. My other dog, “Bull,” died on Sunday, so here I am alone, 150 miles from any white man. Once more passed the night smoking on my waggon-box, the only thing that I could do, and about 11 a.m., on Tuesday 23rd, as I was lying down in my waggon, I caught the sound of oxen’s feet on the road, which proved to be mine, with my driver and forelooper bringing them on, and holding up a can to show me they had water. What a relief! we are saved!—for I was far too weak to walk alone 150 miles, and carry a rifle and food for so long a journey. My driver told me after he left yesterday to follow up the spoor of the oxen, he found my boy asleep under a bush, about a mile from the waggon, and took him with him, and after six hours’ walk came upon the oxen, where they had been drinking at a kind of swamp in a valley, and some twelve miles from the road we had travelled a few days before. Five Bushmen were driving them over the brow of the hill to be out of sight of any one looking after them.—Dirk fired his rifle to give them notice that some one was near, when the Bushmen dispersed out of sight, and he brought back the oxen as before stated. Five minutes later, and it might have been too late. It was a most fortunate recovery for us all, and for me in particular. The water, about three pints brought, was worth much more to us than its weight in gold. I took a few tea-spoonsful at a time, and with the rest we made some tea, and soon after inspanned and treked to Chakani pan, there to wait again for rain. After we had been a week there a very singular affair occurred. It happened to be one of those dark stormy nights without rain; my driver and the boy were sleeping in a tent attached to the waggon. About 2 a.m. he woke me and said there was some kind of an animal wanted to get under the waggon, being pursued by two others. It had twice got under, and being disturbed by the driver, left, but kept going round, still followed by two others. I was up with my rifle, for in these parts we are soon ready for what may turn up. At last the poor beast, whatever it was, took safety between the two after oxen as they were fastened to the waggon, and stood there quite quiet; the other two that followed stood a little way off. By stooping low to get the animal above the horizon, we found it was a large rooi buck, and the others were wild dogs that had been chasing it, until all three were completely exhausted, and could run no more. Jumping from the waggon I tried to get a fair shot at the dogs, but the uncertain light prevented my making a good shot. While so engaged my driver shot the poor buck that had come to us for safety, which I was very sorry for, as I wished to shoot the dogs, which we could have done as daylight was near, and then I would have let the poor beast go. One dog I did shoot, the other made his escape. On looking round the waggon in the morning the whole ground was covered with their spoor, and close to the waggon it was completely trampled; they must have run at least twenty miles before they came to us, from the exhausted state they were in. The most remarkable circumstance was that a buck in a wild country like this, seldom seeing a waggon, should have had the sense to know, for it is not what is called instinct, and should feel if he could get under the waggon, his pursuers would be afraid to follow, and he would be safe, so came to us for protection. I was much annoyed that my driver shot him, for he should certainly have had his liberty in the morning.

The foregoing will give a slight idea of some of the trials explorers meet with in travelling through regions where water is so scarce. I remained at this pan up to 14th November; having consumed all the water in it, and still no rain, fearful thunderstorms without any, I was compelled to fall back on Mongwato, and retrace my steps fifty-four miles to procure it. During my long stay at this pan, I had very little sport, a few rooi bucks and guinea-fowl, also pheasants, partridges, and doves. I was always out with my gun, and my oxen grazed where they liked, knowing they would come for water once or twice a day, not thinking for a moment there were any dangerous animals near. But on the 14th, at 4 a.m., we were preparing coffee ready for a trek, when we saw two of the largest wild pigs I ever fell in with, come down to drink, not a hundred yards from the waggon, on the opposite side of the pan. One we soon secured, having received two shots, the other quickly escaped. This delayed us until 7 a.m., when we treked, and had not gone a quarter of a mile, passing a little stone kopjie, with beautiful euphorbia and other trees, when we saw, as we thought, six rooi bucks out on the outskirts of the wood, and 200 yards from the road. Finding they did not move, although they were looking at us, being in long grass we were deceived as to the nature of the animals, and when we were opposite we stopped. I and the driver jumped off the waggon with our rifles, with only one charge, and were walking up to them, when they seemed to be walking down towards us. I was about to fire when Dirk called out, “Don’t fire, they are tigers.” Lowering the rifle to have a better look, sure enough they were six beauties, with their sleek spotted coats, which made them look very handsome. As we were at least fifty yards from the waggon, if we had fired with no more ammunition, and they had come down upon us, it would have been very awkward. We therefore stood our ground, watching them stretch themselves on the ground, and then stand up, looking at us with heads erect, until they quietly turned into the wood; and we followed their example, and turned into the waggon. It was no use attempting to follow them up, we were only two, and could do very little, and they might have done a great deal to us. This hill is about a hundred and fifty feet high, and almost daily I have walked round and over it with my shot-gun, and saw nothing but guinea-fowl. And so ended this little leopard affair, and we proceeded on our way towards Mongwato, sadly inconvenienced for want of water for the oxen. But at Mokalapsie river, by digging two feet in the sand between the granite rocks in its bed, we obtained it in sufficient quantity to satisfy the oxen.

The lions have been a great trouble to those who keep cattle-posts on this river-bank; the night before my arrival, they killed a horse belonging to Mr Francis. Many singular isolated conical hills, over a hundred feet in height, add greatly to the beauty of the scenery, but are great covers for the lion and leopard. Very warm, thermometer 102 degrees in the shade. Everything very dry. Pushed on to Mongwato for water. On my arrival there was told there was no water for oxen, and if rain does not fall the people will have to leave the town and go down to the Limpopo river. The chief Khama came to me and said he would take charge of my oxen and horse, and send them to the same kraal he sent them before, if I would send a man to look after them, with one of his, and keep them until wanted. This kind offer was gladly accepted, consequently I had to wait for rain. On the 21st November a Boer came in and told me rain had fallen in the north, and that I could now trek up; but as the other Boer I had met on the road deceived me, I took no notice of the information, and it turned out he wilfully deceived me. I spent many pleasant evenings with the Rev. Mr Hepburn and the traders at the station, musical parties at Francis’ store, and cricket matches in the day. Bought a muid of Boer meal, that is, wheat ground, for 4 pounds 10 shillings the 200 lbs. A few days later we had a fine storm, with heavy rain, and on the 26th started again for the north, and arrived again at Chakani pan on the 30th, which was full of nice fresh water, and found a troop of ostriches drinking at it. From thence I pushed on, the grass being burnt up by the drought, and arrived at Gowkwe river, one of the tributaries of the Limpopo, as are all those I crossed from Mongwato. Two miles back from this, to the right of the road, is the first baobab tree, a young one, twenty-seven feet in circumference, with several large nests, each forming quite a town. The entire country is a thick wood, stretching in every direction hundreds of miles. The belief does not hold good in this region that forests bring rain, for it is one of the driest parts of Central South Africa, and has been named thirst-land, from its proverbial dryness, as my experience can also testify. From December to the following May water may be obtained; the rest of the year it is like what I have already described, consequently game is scarce in the dry season; it always follows the rain.

From Gowkwe river the road continues on to the river Shasha, the boundary the chief Khama claimed when he gave me his boundary-line, but this the Matabele king disputes, and claims down to the Macloutsie river, and, in fact, all Khama’s country, from previous conquest, but Khama holds possession. The road from Gowkwe crosses several rivers between it and the Shasha. The Sand river is broad and pretty, and falls into the Macloutsie, which is about the same size, tributaries of the Limpopo. They rise in the hill district of the watershed separating the Zambese basin from the Limpopo. The distance from Mongwato to the Shasha by road is 163 miles, crossing the Shasha river, where we find granite and gneiss rocks, the sand being very deep in its bed, which is about 100 yards broad, with very steep banks on both sides. No water is ever found in any of these rivers, except in the rainy season, and then it comes down with a rush, sometimes rising twenty feet, but lasts only a few days or weeks. This river, according to the chief Khama, is his northern boundary, but this Lo-Bengulu, the Matabele king, will not acknowledge. However, after crossing the river, the road continues north for six miles, and the Tati river is crossed, of the same size and character as the Shasha. On its northern bank is the Tati station, where there are a few houses occupied by English traders, and a few Boer families, and the ruins of the large building once the store of the Tati Gold Company, under Sir John Swinbourne, which will be more fully described in a future chapter. The road branches off from the Tati station, runs in a north-west direction nearly the entire way. The main road from Tati to Matabeleland runs nearly north. The roads through the western portion of Khama’s territory leave Ba-Mangwato station and go west for thirty-five miles, where the road branches off at Khabala sand-pits from the Lake N’gami road, and continues north for 129 miles until the large brak vlei Makarakara is reached. Thirty miles from Khabala pits there are two roads at Loata, which join again at Makwa pits, a distance of sixty-four miles between the two. Thirty five miles beyond is Berg fountain, close to the great vlei above-named. The road continues along the eastern shore sixty-six miles to the north-east point of the vlei, where the Nata falls into it. From the crossing of the Nata to Daka the road runs in a north-north-east direction, the distance being 167 miles, passing many vleis; the principal ones treking north are Veremoklane, twenty miles, great Ramakanyane, eighteen miles, Tamakanya vlei, seventeen miles, Juruka vlei, Tamafo pan, Tamasibu vlei, Stoffolds vlei, Henvicks vlei, Tabikies vlei, which is twenty miles south of Daka. The road to Panda-ma-Tenka is eighteen miles, where Mr George Westbeach has a large store, and is the principal trader for all that region, even to beyond the Zambese river at Seshekes and the country round. He has a store there, and another nearer the Victoria Falls, seven miles beyond his large store. All this part of the country is drained by sluits running to the Zimboya river, which is a small tributary of the Zambese, which it enters about sixty miles below the falls, together with another small branch, Lutuisi river, that falls into the great river about ten miles below the Zimboya at a great bend of the Zambese, both passing through Wankie’s territory, which now belongs to the Matabele king. From Mr Westbeach’s great store to the Victoria Falls is about thirty-two miles. At the falls, or above the fall, the river is nearly a mile in width, and is 2580 feet above sea-level. The perpendicular fall extends the whole way, falling into a narrow fissure to some 200 feet in depth, but the opposite or lower side is so close, and on nearly the same level with the upper fall, that it is impossible to see the bottom from the perpetual mist or spray that rises near the centre of the fall. The outlet of the water passes down a narrow gorge in a sort of zigzag shape, between lofty rocks, rushing down at a great speed until the river opens out. It is impossible to take any accurate drawings of the falls, there is no position in which an artist can take up a position to make an accurate drawing. I have seen many, but they are greatly deficient in portraying the falls as they are, or giving a correct idea of their magnificence. The island on the south side immediately on the brink of the fall adds much beauty to the scene. The tropical trees and plants growing everywhere about add an extra charm to the landscape. Thirty-seven miles above the falls the Chobe river, one of the main branches of the Zambese, comes in, which, as described in the river basin system, forms the northern boundary of the chief Khama’s territory, that is, from the Victoria Falls to the Chobe, up that river for forty-five miles, then crosses the desert to the Sira pan on south, crossing the Zouga or Bot-let-le river to Dorokarra kraal in a south-west direction to Makapolo vlei, which is the extreme western point, then turns south-east, crossing the desert to Selene pan, which is forty-five miles south of Mongwato, then down to the junction of the Notuane and Limpopo. South of this line belongs to the chief Sechele, and the western boundary to the chief Molemo at Lake N’gami. The road from Walfish Bay to the Victoria Falls passes south of this lake to Batuana town, where the chief Molemo rules, along the south side of the Zouga to the town of Dorokarra, where it crosses on to the north side, past the tree with feet, going east along by the pits and pools, salt-pan, seven palms, to Mahutu, then turns nearly north, and joins the other road from Mongwato, at Garuga, on to Panda-ma-Tenka, Mr Westbeach’s stores, and Victoria Falls, which are called Mosioatanga. The road to Mongwato from Molemo’s town is the same to Dorokarra, then turns south-east, following the river to Kumadua lake or vlei, which is part of the Zouga river, then strikes east to Nchokotsa, and from thence south-east to Mongwato, passing several pans, the most permanent waters being at Klakane and Inkotsanges lime-pits. Where the road leaves the Zouga there is a drift, and a road runs due north, passing through the western end of the great Salt vlei Ntwetwe, on past the great baobab letter-tree, passing a salt-pan on the left, crossing the road going to the Victoria Falls, on to Kamakama, through the sandy forest of mapani trees to the Mababe river and Linyanti on the Chobe, the chief Skeletu’s town. Several other roads cross this part of the desert from Panda-ma-Tenka. The distance by road from Lake N’gami is 335 miles, that is, 170 from the lake to Kumadua lake, and 165 from there to Mongwato, consequently in a very dry season there is no water to be obtained in this last distance, and where the trek Boers, in 1877, lost so many of their people, oxen, and waggons. There are many hundred pans, but dry in winter. There is game of every kind all over this region, but they follow the water. The great brak pan, Makarakara, is also dry at that time. When water is in, it is over fifty miles, both north and south, quite an inland sea. Sand is everywhere, the roads are fearful, quite up to the Mababe river.

Many of the mapani trees grow to a great size; the leaf has a sweet gummy sort of varnish, of which the elephants are very fond. The palm grows about forty feet in height; the wood is very hard, an axe with a hard blow will not penetrate. The gigantic tree, the baobab, grows extensively over all these regions. They are prominent objects in the country through which you pass. Many of the stems exceed in circumference 100 feet; their height is not in proportion to the bole; few exceed eighty feet. The tree spreads and covers a large extent of ground; the bark is used to make ropes, and blankets can be manufactured from it. I obtained one, which is exceedingly strong. Bags are also made to hold water or milk. The fruit is used to make a refreshing drink. This tree is also called the Cream of Tartar; the fruit is similar and much larger than an ostrich egg. These trees are calculated to be, the largest of them, nearly 5000 years old.

The country generally is flat; there are a few hills down by the Zimboya and Lutuisi rivers to Wankie’s, on the river, conical and flat-topped. But this part is out of Khama’s territory. All east of Panda-ma-Tenka now belongs to the Matabele king. Wankie’s people and town are now on the north side of the Zambese. To the west of that station is the Lechuma Valley. South of Daka the land rises gradually from the Victoria Falls, the falls being 2580 feet above sea-level, and the land south of Daka is 3900 feet at the highest point. The southern slopes gradually down to an altitude of 2813 feet near the great Salt vlei Makarakara. The sickly season is from September to May. South of the Zouga the land rises gradually until it reaches the central watershed, at an altitude of 4260 feet. At all the permanent waters and along the rivers are kraals occupied by many tribes, under the chief Khama, who, with the greater portion of his people, belongs to the Bakalihari tribe. The distance of the Victoria Falls from Ba-Mangwato is 400 miles, and the distance from Walfish Bay to the falls is 1150 miles.

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