After ascending the main valley of the little river, on the evening of the 10th we reached the sandy and wooded plateau thirty miles in length, that forms a part of the southern “Durstland.” The scarcity of water in front of us made it indispensable that we should hurry on, and after marching till it was quite dark, we only allowed ourselves a few hours’ rest before again starting on a stage which continued till midday, when the excessive heat compelled us once again to halt. No cattle could toil through the deep sandy roads in the hottest hours of the afternoon, so that rest was then compulsory. By the evening, however, we had reached the low Maque plains, remarkable for their growth of mapani-trees; in all directions were traces of striped gnus, zebras, and giraffes, and even lion-tracks in unusual numbers were to be distinctly recognized. We came across some Masarwas, who refused to direct us to a marsh which we had been told was only a few miles away to the right; they were fearful, they said, of being chastised by the Bamangwatos, if it should transpire that they had given the white men any information on such a matter.
The whole of the Maque plain, which is bounded on the west by table-hills, and slopes down northwards to the salt-lake district, consists entirely of mould, equally trying to travellers at all seasons of the year, being soft mire during the rains, and painfully dry throughout the winter season. In the hands of an European landowner, however, that which now serves for nothing better than a hunting-ground might soon be transformed into prolific corn-fields and remunerative cotton-plantations.
