THE INKWESL 45 
the road. . . . Noticed when out in the afternoon, 
and we crossed the river-bed, how easily the water 
rose, when one of the boys scooped out a hole with 
his hands ; very different from the dry river-beds 
the other side Tati. 
'' September ^d. — Morning felt very chilly. 
Breakfast on * biltong ' ^ and butter ; the fresh butter 
excellent. We branded and left ' Rondeberg,' 
' Engeland,' and ' Vinal.' The Boer put twelve of 
his bullocks into my waggon, eight of mine in his, 
and ' Donker,' ' Wildeman,' and ' Spot ' were driven. 
. . . Trekked about twelve miles, from the Impakewe 
to the Inkwesi River, and outspanned about 6 p.m. 
" September \th. — Cup of coffee, and went out 
about 8 A.M., I and the old man riding, his son 
walking ahead, and two of their men (Makalakas) 
accompanying us. ... I do not admire the Mata- 
bele particularly. They are independent-looking 
and well made, but I do not like their countenances. 
The day following there were a great many about 
the waggons, attracted by the flesh. They eat like 
dogs, greedily. Beyond this river, which the Dutch- 
man calls Makobi's, there was a tribe of Mungwato 
people massacred some thirty or forty years ago by 
the Matabele ; Makobi, the chief, being amongst the 
slain. They were killed — men, women, and children 
— to obtain possession of their land. A few only 
escaped. 
" The scenery about our camp is picturesque. 
The kopjes rise abruptly, and the river has steep 
^ Meat dried in the sun. 
