A Thousand Miles in a Machilla 



no signs of animal or bird life to relieve the tedium. 

 We were heartily glad to reach the Kaukibia 

 river at last, and to see its wooded banks and 

 clear running stream, forming cascades and eddies 

 amongst the rocks with which the bed was 

 strewn. 



Our tents were pitched under a clump of shady 

 trees, which projected out into the dambo from the 

 adjacent forest, and were within easy reach of the 

 river-bank. 



Lunch over, we sent for the Angonies, and 

 after some questioning, succeeded in more or less 

 unravelling the mystery connected with their 

 advent. 



It appeared that the box in their charge was the 

 portmanteau containing all our ** store clothing " — to 

 use a colloquialism — which we had left with the 

 African Lakes Company at Fort Jameson to be sent 

 on to Broken Hill, and there to await our arrival. 

 The manager of the company at Fort Jameson 

 had apparently handed the trunk, together with a 

 hat-box, to these Angonies — the load was a double 

 one — and told them to trot along with it to Broken 

 Hill, a march of three hundred miles, giving them 

 the necessary ''posho" for the way and an invoice 

 directed to the manager at Broken Hill. That he 

 should have done so speaks well for the safety with 

 which goods travel in Central Africa, and for the 

 honesty of the porters. At the same time, had we 

 known that our precious portmanteau was to travel 

 in this haphazard fashion, we should have kept it 

 with us, notwithstanding the fact that on the line 



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