clearness of the air, which made the
contrast between the sunlit valley of the Caledon and the solemn shadows
under the thunder-clouds more striking, and the tone of the distant
ranges more deep and rich in colour, than in any similar prospect one
could recall from the mountain watch-towers of Europe. Nor was the
element of historical interest wanting. Fifteen miles away, but seeming
to lie almost at our feet, was the flat-topped hill of Thaba Bosiyo, the
oft-besieged stronghold of Moshesh, and beyond it the broad table-land
of Berea, where the Basutos fought, and almost overcame, the forces of
Sir George Cathcart in that war of 1852 which was so fateful both to
Basutoland and to the Free State.

Less than a mile from the peak on which we sat, we could descry, in the
precipice which surrounds the great corrie, the black mouth of a cave.
It was the den of the cannibal chief Machacha, whose name has clung to
the mountain, and who established himself there seventy years ago, when
the ravages of Tshaka, the Zulu king, had driven the Kafir tribes of
Natal to seek safety in flight, and reduced some among them, for want of
other food, to take to human flesh. Before that time this mountain-land
had been inhabited only by wandering Bushmen, who have left marks of
their presence in pictures on the rocks. Here and there among the crags
jabbering baboons darted about, and great hawks sailed in circles above
us. Otherwise we had seen no living wild creature since we left the
pastures of the valley.

The summit of Machacha is composed of a dark igneous rock, apparently a
sort of amygdaloidal trap, with white and greenish calcareous crystals
scattered through it. The height is given on the maps as 11,000 feet;
but so far as one could judge by frequent observations from below and by
calculations made during the ascent, I should think it not more than
10,500. It seems to be the culminating point of the Maluti range, but
may be exceeded in height by Mont aux Sources, eighty miles off to the
north-east, where Basutoland touches Natal on the one side and the Free
State on the other.

Descending by a somewhat more direct route, which we struck out for
ourselves, we rejoined our horses at the pass where we had left them
three hours before, and from there plunged down the kloof, or ravine,
between the precipices which led to the foot of the mountain. It was
here too steep to ride; indeed, it was about as steep a slope as one can
descend on