130 THE CAMP. 



prevailing both among the inhabitants of the town and his own 

 people. He had very little regard for the native method of 

 treating this disease, which he experienced himself, on one occa- 

 sion, to be a process of " charming one scientifically, while he is 

 stewed in vapor baths and smoked like a red herring over green 

 twigs." His gentler and surer treatment was soon in great 

 demand and burdened him with a full practice, gratis of course. 

 He had also occasion for surgical skill. A party of natives 

 were forced to go after a bold, depredating lion. They must 

 meet their game in closer quarters than the civilized hunter, for 

 the spear and knife or club must do the work of powder and 

 ball. It was an unlucky day for one poor fellow, who was 

 brought home with the bone of his thigh crushed. Even the 

 Avhite man's charms were unequal to this occasion. There is, 

 according to Livingstone, a virus about the teeth of the lion 

 which occasions painful inflammation, and the wound of his 

 teeth " resembles a gunshot wound." It is generally followed 

 by a great deal of sloughing and discharge, and if one is so for- 

 tunate as to escape with life, the injury follows him all through 

 life in periodical pains about the wounded part. 



Before following our hero away from the lovely valley of the 

 Barotse, on his tramp to the sea, we will look just once on the 

 home he nightly improvised along the banks of the lovely Lee- 

 ambye. It is to be remembered that, while his party are all 

 subjects of Sekeletu, only two are really Makololo. There are 

 representatives of several subject tribes. The little camp pre- 

 sents all the order of larger ones in regions more enlightened, 

 where human foes demand the vigilance. A little gypsy tent 

 marks the quarters of the white man ; he is sleeping there be- 

 tween the two trusty Makololo, who have the post of honor, 

 and hold his precious life in sacred trust. About the narrow 

 bed the boxes form a wall. Across the entrance the faithful 

 head-boatman, Moshanana, is lying, his own body given to 

 form the door which violence must pass through to reach his 

 leader. About this tent the rude brush sheds, arranged in 

 horseshoe shape, mark the resting-places of the attendants, 

 separated according to their tribes. Within the circumference 

 of this force the oxen are standing ; and sometimes, lurking in 

 the shadows of the trees, there is a stealthy beast of prey ; his 



