FISHING IN THE LIMPOPO. 229 



having been on a visit to Seleka. They expected to 

 reach Sichely in seven days. 



For many succeeding days my difficulties with re- 

 spect to bringing on the wagons continued to increase. 

 The rain still poured down, rendering the country im- 

 possible to travel, and my oxen died daily of the tsetse 

 bite. In this condition my progress was slow and pain- 

 ful in the extreme, and I awaited anxiously the expect- 

 ed succor from Mr. Livingstone. At length I came 

 fairly to a stand, not having sufficient oxen left to draw 

 one wagon. I formed my camp in a shady bend of the 

 river, and fortified it with a high hedge of thorny trees, 

 and in a few days more all my cattle had died with the 

 exception of two young oxen, which I inclined to think 

 would survive the bite of the fatal " tsetse." 



On the 7th of December I resolved to have some 

 fishing ; accordingly, I routed out some old salmon- 

 fishing tackle, and sallied forth with one of the wagon 

 whip-sticks for a rod, and some string for a line. I 

 baited my hook with a bit of the blue wildebeest, and 

 put on a cork for a bob. I cast in my bait in a quiet 

 bend of the river, and anxiously watched the cork, 

 which very soon began to bob. I then conjured up 

 many forms in my mind, and wondered whether it 

 would be a fair fish, such as I might expect in my own 

 land's rivers, or something more like a young crocodile. 

 I was not fated to live long upon conjecture, however, 

 for next moment under went the cork, and, striking 

 sharply, I threw over my head a fine gray fish about a 

 pound weight, and in appearance like a haddock, with 

 a broad mouth and eight or ten feelers. My Bushman 

 said the Boers, about the Orange River knew this fish, 

 and loved to catch and eat it. Presently my perse- 

 verance was rewarded by a second fish of the same kind 



