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Seven Years in South Africa.

his people began to be decimated by fever, so that before long he had no alternative but to make his way back to his own country.

Such was the state of affairs on my first arrival at Shoshong.

My first concern now was to replenish my stock of provisions, which was very low. I found this a much more difficult matter than I expected, and it was only by Mr. Mackenzie’s assistance that I was able to procure the simplest and most indispensable articles. It was of itself a difficulty quite enough to make me renounce all intention of extending my journey as far as the Zooga, or Botletle.

On the 9th, I was favoured with a visit from the king and his linyakas, an honour subsequently repeated so often as to become a positive nuisance, as henceforward, so long as we stayed in the place, we had to receive his majesty and his council of “black crows” once a day, and occasionally twice. When he arrived, Sekhomo would keep on shaking my hand, while his factotum, who could speak Dutch, would be perpetually begging for something in his master's name. The king at other times would stand with his arms akimbo, his myrmidons squatting around him in a semicircle and imitating everything he did; if he laughed, they laughed; if he gaped, they gaped; if he yawned, they yawned; and one day, when his majesty burnt his mouth with some tea that was too hot, they all puckered up their faces as if they likewise were experiencing the pain; when