MASHONALAND 39 



fruitful green gardens, told of an outpost of God. 

 To Chisawasha many a foot-sore wanderer has 

 come, and the good Fathers have laid him on a 

 restful bed. They have given the thirsty drink, 

 the hungry food, and the sick medicine. There 

 they mould the native mind. They build wagons 

 and houses and cultivate orchards and crops, and 

 if you have any knowledge of the Bantu you will 

 applaud their doctrine. For the dignity of 

 Labour is a far better thing to teach the children 

 of Africa than the dignity of Christ. 



At dusk we camped by a little laughing 

 rivulet, and tethered the donkeys up in a de- 

 serted kraal. The majesty of the dying sun 

 threw shafts of gold and fire across the western 

 sky, and as we ate our frugal meal a great peace 

 and contentment came over us — the peace of the 

 untrammelled byways where the noise and bustle 

 of the throng are not, where the lullaby of the 

 river laughs one to sleep, and the glory of the 

 dawn is the waking harbinger of that freedom 

 which only the waste spaces of this onward world 

 can know. We marched through m'hoba-hoba 

 trees, and penetrated what is now the Arcturus 

 district, and an important mining centre. But 

 at that time there was only a meagre amount of 

 prospecting going on in the region, and it was 

 wild, little-traversed country. I shot a part- 

 ridge for the pot, and at night we outspanned 

 at the M'Fen River, a pretty stream which, in 

 common with the other rivers of this neighbour- 

 hood, flows north to meet the Mazoe, which, in 

 turn, joins the Luenya* and empties into the 

 Zambesi a few miles below sleepy, slumbering 

 Tete. The next river we forded was the Inyagui, 

 where there is a picturesque little Mashona kraal, 

 * Or "Ruenya." 



