1841-43-] FIRST TWO YEARS IN AFRICA. 47 



away. As for Bubi himself, he was afterwards burned 

 to death by an explosion of gunpowder, which one of 

 his sorcerers was trying, by means of burnt roots, to 

 tm-bewitch. 



In advancing, Livingstone had occasion to pass through 

 a part of the great Kalahari desert, and here he met 

 with Sekomi, a chief of the Bamangwato, from whom 

 also he received a most friendly reception. The ignor- 

 ance of this tribe he found to be exceedingly great : — 



" Their conceptions of the Deity are of the most vague and con- 

 tradictory nature, and the name of God conveys no more to their 

 understanding than the idea of superiority. Hence they do not 

 hesitate to apply the name to their chiefs. I was every day shocked 

 by being addressed by that title, and though it as often furnished me 

 with a text from which to tell them of the only true God and Jesus 

 Christ whom he has sent, yet it deeply pained me, and I never felt 

 so fully convinced of the lamentable deterioration of our species. It 

 is indeed a mournful truth that man has become like the beasts that 

 perish." 



The place was greatly infested by lions, and during 

 Livingstone's visit an awful occurrence took place that 

 made a great impression on him : — 



" A woman was actually devoured in her garden during my visit, 

 and that so near the town that I had frequently walked past it. It 

 was most affecting to hear the cries of the orphan children of this 

 woman. During the whole day after her death the surrounding rocks 

 and valleys rang and re-echoed with their bitter cries. I frequently 

 thought as I listened to the loud sobs, painfully indicative of the 

 sorrows of those who have no hope, that if some of our churches could 

 have heard their sad wailings, it would have awakened the firm resolu- 

 tion to do more for the heathen than they have done." 



Poor Sekomi advanced a new theory of regeneration 

 which Livingstone was unable to work out :• — • 



" On one occasion Sekomi, having sat by me in the hut for some 

 time in deep thought, at length addressing me by a pompous title said, 

 ' I wish you would change my heart. Give me medicine to change it, for 

 it is proud, proud and angry, angry always.' I lifted up the Testament 

 and was about to tell him of the only way in which the heart can be 

 changed, but he interrupted me by saying, 'Nay, I wish to have it 



