A SECRET OF THE ORANGE RIVER. 167 



smell of their game stew, for we were none of us 

 anthobians, we sat us down and ate and drank with 

 vigorous appetites. Their camp-pot contained the 

 best part of a tender steinbok, and a brace or two 

 of pheasants (francolins) ; and we heartily enjoyed 

 the meal, washed down with the inevitable coffee. 



Supper finished, some good old Cango (the best 

 home-manufactured brandy of the Cape, made in 

 the Oudtshoorn district) was produced, pipes lighted, 

 and then we began to "yarn." For an hour or more, 

 we talked upon a variety of topics old days in 

 England, the voyage to the Cape, the Colony, its 

 prospects and its sport. From these, our conversa- 

 tion wandered up country, and we soon found that 

 our acquaintances were old interior traders, who in 

 the days when ivory and feathers were more plentiful 

 and more accessible than now, had over and over 

 again made the journey to 'Mangwato and back. 

 'Mangwato, it may be explained, is the trader's 

 abbreviation for Bamangwato, Khama's country, 

 the most northerly of the Bechuana States ; and of 

 Bamangwato, Shoshong is the capital and seat of 

 trade. Then we wandered in our talk to the 

 Kalahari, that mysterious and little-known desert 

 land, and from the Kalahari back to the Orange 

 River again. 



" 'Tis strange," said one of our number, " how 

 little is known of the Orange River at all events 

 west of the falls ; I don't think I ever met a man 

 who had been down it. One would think the 

 colonists would know something of their northern 

 boundary ; as a matter of fact they don't." 



"Ah! talking of the Orange River, reminds 

 me," said the younger of the transport riders, the 



