14d 10' 52" S., long. 23d 35' 40" E.). Masiko, the
Barotse chief, for whom we had some captives, lived nearly due east of
this point. They were two little boys, a little girl, a young man, and
two middle-aged women. One of these was a member of a Babimpe tribe, who
knock out both upper and lower front teeth as a distinction. As we had
been informed by the captives on the previous Sunday that Masiko was in
the habit of seizing all orphans, and those who have no powerful friend
in the tribe whose protection they can claim, and selling them for
clothing to the Mambari, we thought the objection of the women to go
first to his town before seeing their friends quite reasonable, and
resolved to send a party of our own people to see them safely among
their relatives. I told the captive young man to inform Masiko that he
was very unlike his father Santuru, who had refused to sell his people
to Mambari. He will probably be afraid to deliver such a message
himself, but it is meant for his people, and they will circulate it
pretty widely, and Masiko may yet feel a little pressure from without.
We sent Mosantu, a Batoka man, and his companions, with the captives.
The Barotse whom we had were unwilling to go to Masiko, since they owe
him allegiance as the son of Santuru, and while they continue with the
Makololo are considered rebels. The message by Mosantu was, that "I was
sorry to find that Santuru had not borne a wiser son. Santuru loved to
govern men, but Masiko wanted to govern wild beasts only, as he sold
his people to the Mambari;" adding an explanation of the return of the
captives, and an injunction to him to live in peace, and prevent
his people kidnapping the children and canoes of the Makololo, as a
continuance in these deeds would lead to war, which I wished to prevent.
He was also instructed to say, if Masiko wanted fuller explanation of my
views, he must send a sensible man to talk with me at the first town of
the Balonda, to which I was about to proceed.

We ferried Mosantu over to the left bank of the Leeba. The journey
required five days, but it could not have been at a quicker rate than
ten or twelve miles per day; the children were between seven and eight
years of age, and unable to walk fast in a hot sun.

Leaving Mosantu to pursue his course, we shall take but one glance down
the river, which we are now about to leave, for it comes at this point
from the eastward, and our course is to be directed to the northwe