sound their pipes close by, and as soon as the goat and the sheep heard the accustomed note they galloped away, each to its separate herd. Our man succeeded in overtaking and capturing one of the sheep, but the other two creatures got clean away. It was in vain that we threatened to report the dealers to Lo Bengula. They took our threats in the calmest way, and walked off to their homes, contriving, before they went, to get possession of Westbeech’s pocket-knife. It is scarcely necessary to say, that neither the goat nor the sheep was ever recovered.
By the 25th we had diverged somewhat from the Maytengue. Most of the granite hills were now on our left; but we could see others still more important rising on the southern horizon in front of us.
The visits that from time to time continued to be made to us by Matabele soldiers were a perpetual source of uneasiness to Z.; he appeared to dread them much more than the Makalakas, and the mere sight of any Zulu made him creep back as rapidly and as stealthily as he could to his waggon. None of them ever recognized him, but it happened once during a noonday halt, that he came into collision with two of them in a way that almost cost him his life. Distinguishable at once as Matabele by their feather head-dresses, and by their aprons of wild cats’ tails, two young fellows came to the waggon begging for a “lapiana” (a piece of calico). Z.’s little dog flew at them, growling and barking, and one of them in his annoyance was about to give the animal a tremendous blow with his kiri, which probably would have dashed its brains out. Z. came rushing forward, flushed with rage, to protect his dog, and shook his fist in the face of the in-
