MASHONALAND 45 



days of the French Revolution every tenth day 

 was appointed a day of rest and amusement; 

 but neither man nor beast could stand the strain 

 of ten days' work. The failure of this experi- 

 ment was noteworthy proof of the comparative 

 littleness of man's wisdom. But I digress. 

 Monday found L. much better, so we said " good- 

 bye " to M'Rewas and struck off towards the 

 north-east. 



It is not advisable to lose one's temper on a 

 donkey. It is far less advisable to hit one of 

 these provoking animals with a valuable gun. 

 The morning we left M'Rewas, Clo Clo maddened 

 me into a sort of Balaam-like wrath by abso- 

 lutely refusing to keep up with her consorts. I 

 gave her an angry prod with the heel of my 

 Westley-Richards hammerless 12-bore. The 

 stock broke. I choked with curses, and Clo Clo 

 turned around and smiled on me sweetly. 



We had another catastrophe that morning. 

 One of the animals played the giddy goat whilst 

 fording a small stream, and her loads fell into 

 the water. This greatly amused a B.S.A. police- 

 man, who was escorting the Chief Native Com- 

 missioner on a tour of inspection. L. and I 

 failed to see the humour of the situation. 



On the morrow we reached the Inyaderi River 

 at midday after a long and tiring trek. The 

 Inyaderi is a pretty stream, and one of the largest 

 of the many tributaries of the Mazoe. On 

 its banks we found some " Government rest- 

 houses," in reality grass and reed-built huts. 

 Here we pitched camp, and went out shooting in 

 the afternoon. There was a fair amount of buck 

 spoor around, but a solitary hare constituted the 

 bag. 



The loads sat well the next day, and we made 



