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Seven Years in South Africa.

journey I had been compelled to give up. But I grew worse instead of better, and as the unhealthy season was now coming on, both Westbeech and Sepopo advised me to leave the Marutse district altogether, to return to the south, and not to resume my travels until my health was completely restored. To me, however, this suggestion looked tantamount to a proposal to postpone my project indefinitely, and I was loth to acquiesce.

I received visits, not only from the king, but from a number of the chiefs with whom I had made acquaintance, and while they all expressed their sympathy with me in my illness, they declared they had foreseen it. It was their unanimous opinion that I had stayed too long in Sesheke, the king himself reprimanding me for having taken my trip to the Victoria Falls and losing my chance of starting earlier, although every one knew that the blame rested entirely with himself, and that he had detained me from October to December, and even then had furnished me with boats only at Moquai’s solicitation.

Since my departure the hut that I had occupied had been appropriated to another purpose, but Westbeech kindly found me accommodation at his store. Sepopo’s unpopularity was very much on the increase. Inkambella, the great chief whom I mentioned as passing as I lay at the Nambwe cataract, had been on his way to Sesheke to pay homage to the king, but the reverence and affection with which he was regarded made him an object of aversion to Sepopo, who would willingly have disposed of him. No one, however, could be found to assassinate him, and the only resource was to have him