thed the opposite hill, while here
and there faint blue smoke-wreaths rose from some Kafir hut hidden among
the brushwood. We passed a large village, and just beyond it overtook
three Kafirs all talking briskly, as is their wont, one of them carrying
a gun and apparently going after game. A good many natives have
firearms, but acts of violence seem to be extremely rare. Then passing
under some rocky heights we saw, after an hour and a half's fast
walking, the group of huts where the Company's native Commissioner, whom
I was going to find, had fixed his station. Some Kafirs were at work on
their mealie-plots, and one of them, dropping his mattock, rushed across
and insisted on shaking hands with me, saying "Moragos," which is said
to be a mixture of Dutch and Kafir, meaning "Good-morning, sir." The
Commissioner was living alone among the natives, and declared himself
quite at ease as to their behaviour. One chief dwelling near had been
restive, but submitted when he was treated with firmness; and the
natives generally--so he told me--seem rather to welcome the
intervention of a white man to compose their disputes. They are, he
added, prone to break their promises, except in one case. If an object,
even of small value, has been delivered to them as a token of the
engagement made, they feel bound by the engagement so long as they keep
this object, and when it is formally demanded back they will restore it
unharmed. The fact is curious, and throws light on some of the features
of primitive legal custom in Europe.

The Commissioner took me to the two pieces of old building--one can
hardly call them ruins--which I had come to see. One (called Chipadzi's)
has been already mentioned (see p. 75, _ante_). It is a bit of ancient
wall of blocks of trimmed granite, neatly set without mortar, and
evidently meant to defend the most accessible side of a rocky kopje,
which in some distant age had been a stronghold. It has all the
appearance of having been constructed by the same race that built the
walls of Dhlodhlo (see p. 71) and Zimbabwye (see p. 75) (though the work
is not so neat), and is called by the natives a Zimbabwye. Behind it, in
the centre of the kopje, is a rude low wall of rough stones enclosing
three huts, only one of which remains roofed. Under this one is the
grave of a famous chief called Makoni,--the name is rather an official
than a personal one, and his personal name was Chipadzi,--the uncle of
the present Makoni,