they found themselves on the trail of the day before. Many of his
cattle burst away from him in the phrensy of thirst, and rushed back
to Serotli, then a large piece of water, and to Mashue and Lopepe, the
habitations of their original owners. He stocked himself again among the
Batletli, on Lake Kumadau, whose herds were of the large-horned species
of cattle.* Conquering all around the lake, he heard of white men living
at the west coast; and, haunted by what seems to have been the dream
of his whole life, a desire to have intercourse with the white man, he
passed away to the southwest, into the parts opened up lately by Messrs.
Galton and Andersson. There, suffering intensely from thirst, he and
his party came to a small well. He decided that the men, not the cattle,
should drink it, the former being of most value, as they could fight
for more should these be lost. In the morning they found the cattle had
escaped to the Damaras.

* We found the Batauana in possession of this breed when we
discovered Lake Ngami. One of these horns, brought to England
by Major Vardon, will hold no less than twenty-one imperial
pints of water; and a pair, brought by Mr. Oswell, and now in
the possession of Colonel Steele, measures from tip to tip
eight and a half feet.

Returning to the north poorer than he started, he ascended the Teoughe
to the hill Sorila, and crossed over a swampy country to the eastward.
Pursuing his course onward to the low-lying basin of the Leeambye, he
saw that it presented no attraction to a pastoral tribe like his, so
he moved down that river among the Bashubia and Batoka, who were
then living in all their glory. His narrative resembled closely the
"Commentaries of Caesar", and the history of the British in India. He
was always forced to attack the different tribes, and to this day his
men justify every step he took as perfectly just and right. The
Batoka lived on large islands in the Leeambye or Zambesi, and, feeling
perfectly secure in their fastnesses, often allured fugitive or
wandering tribes on to uninhabited islets on pretense of ferrying them
across, and there left them to perish for the sake of their goods.
Sekomi, the chief of the Bamangwato, was, when a child, in danger of
meeting this fate; but a man still living had compassion on him, and
enabled his mother to escape with him by night. The river is so large
that the sharpest eye can not tell the difference between an island and