ts, weighs very
heavily upon me. As regards the latter, I can only say that it does not
pretend to be a full account of everything we did and saw. There are
many things connected with our journey into Kukuanaland that I should
have liked to dwell upon at length, which, as it is, have been scarcely
alluded to. Amongst these are the curious legends which I collected
about the chain armour that saved us from destruction in the great
battle of Loo, and also about the "Silent Ones" or Colossi at the mouth
of the stalactite cave. Again, if I had given way to my own impulses, I
should have wished to go into the differences, some of which are to my
mind very suggestive, between the Zulu and Kukuana dialects. Also a few
pages might have been given up profitably to the consideration of the
indigenous flora and fauna of Kukuanaland.[1] Then there remains the
most interesting subject--that, as it is, has only been touched on
incidentally--of the magnificent system of military organisation in
force in that country, which, in my opinion, is much superior to that
inaugurated by Chaka in Zululand, inasmuch as it permits of even more
rapid mobilisation, and does not necessitate the employment of the
pernicious system of enforced celibacy. Lastly, I have scarcely spoken
of the domestic and family customs of the Kukuanas, many of which are
exceedingly quaint, or of their proficiency in the art of smelting and
welding metals. This science they carry to considerable perfection, of
which a good example is to be seen in their "tollas," or heavy throwing
knives, the backs of these weapons being made of hammered iron, and the
edges of beautiful steel welded with great skill on to the iron frames.
The fact of the matter is, I thought, with Sir Henry Curtis and Captain
Good, that the best plan would be to tell my story in a plain,
straightforward manner, and to leave these matters to be dealt with
subsequently in whatever way ultimately may appear to be desirable. In
the meanwhile I shall, of course, be delighted to give all information
in my power to anybody interested in such things.

And now it only remains for me to offer apologies for my blunt way of
writing. I can but say in excuse of it that I am more accustomed to
handle a rifle than a pen, and cannot make any pretence to the grand
literary flights and flourishes which I see in novels--for sometimes I
like to read a novel. I suppose they--the flights and flourishes--are
desirable, and I r