hunt had been most successful, and the slaughter immense; but it was
with feelings of pleasure the travellers had a farewell interview with
Mozelkatse, and then passing among the dancing, singing savages, took
their way across the plain, lighted by a brilliant moon, to their quiet
camp by the side of the Limpopo.

Volume 1, Chapter VI.

A NARROW ESCAPE.

Two days after the Matabele hunt the vast plains were once more silent,
Mozelkatse, at the head of his gorged hunters, having left Zoutpansburgh
for his own kraal, and the party of which the white men were the chiefs,
having resumed their march northward. The waggon and horses had not yet
been sent back, but the onward march was slow and tedious, and passing
through the country of the Batonga, it took five days' toilsome march
before the tent was pitched on a bend of the Suave river. The weather
had gradually increased in heat, the native kraals were few and small,
and what was worse, the natives themselves seemed more and more
unsociable, if not actually unfriendly.

The white man appeared known among them, but as the distance from the
English frontier daily increased, this knowledge seemed only drawn from
that of the Portuguese traders on the Zambesi, a degenerate race, who
were looked down upon by the blacks. The plains swarmed with game of
every kind, and fruits of different sorts were to be found near the
rivers; but as the little party advanced, the forest-land became more
frequent and more dense. The tall palmyra and the stately moshanna
trees grew luxuriantly. Squirrels of various sorts haunted the groves
and thickets, more particularly one species of a pale yellow colour,
touched up with black, about eight inches long in the body, and being
remarkable for its magnificent tail, also pale yellow, barred with
black, and fully as long as the body. This beautiful little animal
seemed to look for its food among the stones, and was quite fearless.
The pitfalls dug by the natives were so artfully concealed as to be very
annoying, and even dangerous. On one occasion a Kaffir fell into one,
and was released with some difficulty. One was found close to the banks
of the Suave river, and into it a splendid panther had fallen. It must
have been days since it had been there, for the sides of the pit were
scored with its claws: however, a pistol-shot killed it, and its skin
was a most beautiful one. The mosquitos and the soldier ants were
another source of trou