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Seven Years in South Africa.

town, of the agriculture of which I had already heard very glowing reports.

At the distance of only a few miles from its source the Notuany was flowing in a deep entrenched bed, across which a few trunks of trees had been thrown, forming a primitive bridge, over which we had no alternative but to take our waggon. Once through the valley, we were at the Linokana hollow, in the centre of which, and extending up its northern and eastern sides, lay the town of the same name.

The reeds in the Matebe teemed with animal life. Morning and evening were the best opportunities of watching their movements, but at those times we could see the grey wild cat creeping stealthily after snipes and long-tailed cape-finches; the water-lizard lying craftily in wait for its prey; or occasionally the caracal driven by hunger from its rocky lair to seek a meal in the security of the reeds of the river-bed.

In the eastern portion of the valley, our attention was directed to a group of trees near some well-cultivated fields, conspicuous among them being some eucalyptus, two feet in diameter, and certainly not much less than sixty feet high. Beneath their shade stood several houses built in European style. These were the quarters of a missionary, whose instruction and example have had such a beneficial influence upon the Baharutse, that they have become the most thriving agriculturists of all the Transvaal Bechuanas. The name of this missionary is Thomas