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Seven Years in South Africa.

impulse, and to cast mistrust over every friendly word.

Whenever the Manansas are being pursued, and find themselves cut off from every prospect of escape, they will stop, turn round, and advance towards their adversaries with the points of their assegais lowered, and as soon as they come near their conquerors they will lay down their weapons, squat upon the ground, and wait until the enemy has done his worst. During the time when Moshesh was the Bamangwato king, they could generally manage to appease him and stay his acts of oppression by gifts of ivory; but Moselikatze carried off their boys and a great number of their women, while the present Matabele despot commissioned his hordes to plunder everything upon which they could lay their hands. It is only when they have been put in charge of some white man whom the missionaries have introduced as a person of importance to be protected as far as the falls, that orders are given to refrain from robbery or violence. Such, for instance, was the case when Major S. was escorted through the district in 1875; the object of the king in such cases being that the traveller should have no tales of cruelty to tell “the great white queen” of England on his return.

I used to talk to a Manansa who was hired every year by one of the traders, and appeared to be above the level of his fellow-tribesmen in intelligence. Happening to say something about the cowardice imputed to his race, I saw him shake his head and smile. “No,” he replied, “we are not timid pallahs, nor ever have been; but we