HIS CHARACTER. 53 



and, as nothing could be returned to this chief, Mahale be- 

 came the owner of them. Long before it was day, Sebituane 

 came, and sitting down by the fire, which was lighted for 

 our benefit behind the hedge where we lay, he narrated the 

 difficulties he had himself experienced, when a young man, 

 in crossing that same desert which we had mastered long 

 afterward. 



He was much pleased with the proof of confidence wo 

 had shown in bringing our children, and promised to take 

 us to see his country, so that we might choose a part in 

 which to locate ourselves. Our plan was, that I should 

 remain in the pursuit of my objects as a missionary, 

 while Mr. Oswell explored the Zambesi to the east. Poor 

 Sebituane, however, just after realizing what he had so long 

 ardently desired, fell sick of inflammation of the lungs, 

 which originated in and extended from an old wound got at 

 Melita. I saw his danger, but, being a stranger, I feared 

 to treat him medically, lest, in the event of his death, I 

 should be blamed by his people. I mentioned this to one 

 of his doctors, who said, " Your fear is prudent and wise : 

 this people would blame you." He had been cured of this 

 complaint, during the year before, by the Barotse making 

 a large number of free incisions in the chest. The Mako- 

 lolo doctors, on the other hand, now scarcely cut the skin 

 On the Sunday afternoon in which he died, when our usual 

 religious service was over, I visited him with my little boy 

 Robert. " Come near," said Sebituane, " and see if I am 

 any longer a man. I am done." He was thus sensible of 

 the dangerous nature of his disease; so I ventured to as- 

 sent, and added a single sentence regarding hope after 

 death. "Why do you speak of death ?" said one of a 

 relay of fresh doctors; "Sebituane will never die." If] 

 had persisted, the impression would have been produced 

 that by speaking about it I wished him to die. After 

 sitting with him some time, and commending him to the 

 mercy of God, I rose to depart, when the dying chieftain, 

 raising himself up a little from his prone position, called a 



