rumour of the resolution came to one of the chiefs, who communicated it privately to many of his friends. This was about the end of September, when Blockley was the only white man left in Sesheke. Night after night groups of men were to be seen stealthily making their way past his quarters to the woods; they were the servants of the chiefs, carrying away the young boys whither they hoped to have them out of the tyrant’s reach, and some little time elapsed before either the king or his executioner was aware of the steps that were being taken to frustrate the bloody order.
The appointed day arrived. Mashoku’s emissaries were sent to ascertain from which of the chieftains’ enclosures a victim might most readily be procured, but one by one they returned and reported that not a child was to be found. At last, however, one of the men brought word that he had seen a solitary boy playing outside his father’s fence. Apprised of this, the king immediately sent directions to the father to go out at once and procure some grass and reeds for a hut that he was building, and then charged Mashoku to lose no time. As soon as he had satisfied himself that the man had left his home, Mashoku sent his messenger to fetch the child to the royal courtyard, where, although the place was full of people, a perfect silence prevailed. The king was in a terribly bad temper, and no one dared to breathe a word. The executioner’s assistant made his way to the abode of the chief, and was greeted by the mistress of the house with a friendly “rumela;” he then proceeded to tell her that the kosana, her husband, was just setting out in his canoe, and that he had sent him to say he wished
