2o6 MATABELE LAND. 
the country and the account of my wanderings are 
read with some Httle interest, though I fear I can 
only thank the friendHness of my critics for any- 
thing interesting being found in them. As, how- 
ever, I receive the flattering assurance that they 
do afford a Httle amusement I will proceed without 
further apology. A mail is leaving here very shortly, 
as traders are now here on their way to Mungwato, 
and will take letters. By the way, I am writing with 
some of the desiccated ink I brought with me. I 
had a grand brew of it yesterday, and it is an un- 
doubted success. My table is formed by a packing- 
case, and my chair is a box of gunpowder — but I am 
not smoking. I am inhabiting a deserted house made 
by one of the former gold-diggers here, and appro- 
priated by a Dutch family, who, however, are from 
home. The paterfamilias has gone to hunt for ivory 
in the Zambesi direction, and taken his * vrouw,' 
family, and furniture with him in his waggon." 
The narrative, here broken off, was again re- 
sumed, some days later : — 
" October loth. 
" I again take up my pen to continue the 
letter I began on the ist of this month, and which 
I hoped would have been a long way south of 
Bamangwato by this time. The delay has been 
occasioned by the drought, rendering the journey 
full of risk for the oxen, I promised you a short 
r^sumd of my doings and sufferings since I last wrote 
to you. By sufferings, I don't of course mean bodily 
ones, but what I have suffered from rascally Kafirs, 
and which are only entitled to be called annoyances. 
