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Seven Years in South Africa.

adding that he had been assured by one of his spies that the perpetrator of the deed was a white man, who had joined our party at the Nata river. Disappointed at not identifying the individual he wanted, Menon began to vent his annoyance by demanding toll from Walsh and myself, under the pretext that we had entered his territory for the first time. Westbeech, who was the only one among us who understood the Makalaka dialect, told us to be quiet and to take no notice of the chief, and then proceeded to give him such a lecture on the duty of hospitality, that he very soon altered his tone, and promised that he would send us a goat, adding that he was sorry that he was unable to give us a cow, as the Matabele had stolen all his cattle. We acknowledged his politeness by making him a present of powder and shot, which he accepted as graciously as he could.

After he was gone, one of his attendants, a mean-looking creature, lingered behind with our servants near the fire; the behaviour of the fellow was pecular, and I kept my eye on him. He was pretending to warm himself, but it was easy to see that he was looking behind the waggons. All at once he stirred the fire into a blaze. He had caught sight of Z., who, not observing that a stranger was amongst our party, had returned from his retreat in the rear. He inquired nervously of me whether Menon had asked any questions about him, and when I replied that he had alluded to the death of the Makalaka, he jumped up and swore that Menon was a great liar. At this moment Menon’s man, who most probably had heard what passed, got up and walked quietly away.