478 LOSS OF THE BOAT. Chap. XXIII. 



what looks a fine velvety down, but is in reality a multitude 

 of fine prickles, which go in by the million, and caused an 

 itching and stinging in the naked bodies of those who were 

 pulling the tow-rope, that made them wriggle as if stung 

 by a whole bed of nettles. Those on board required to be 

 men of ready resource with oars and punting-poles, and such 

 they were. But, nevertheless, they found after attempting 

 to pass by a rock, round which the water rushed in whirls, 

 that the wiser plan would be to take the boat ashore, and 

 carry her past the last Cataract. When this was reported, 

 the carriers were called from the various shady trees under 

 which they had taken refuge from the sun. This was 

 midwinter, but the sun is always hot by day here, though 

 the nights are cold. Five Zambesi men, who had been all 

 their lives accustomed to great heavy canoes, — the chief re- 

 commendation of which is said to be, that they can be run 

 against a rock with the full force of the current without in- 

 jury — were very desirous to show how much better they could 

 manage our boat than the Makololo; three jumped into 

 her when our backs were turned, and two hauled her up a 

 little way; the tide caught her bow, we heard a shout of 

 distress, the rope was out of their hands in a moment, and 

 there she was, bottom upwards ; a turn or two in an eddy, 

 and away she went, like an arrow, down the Cataracts. One 

 of the men in swimming ashore saved a rifle. The whole 

 party ran with all their might along the bank, but never 

 more did we see our boat. 



The five performers in this catastrophe approached with 

 penitential looks. They had nothing to say, nor had we. 

 They bent down slowly, and touched our feet with both 

 hands. " Ku kuata moendo " — " to catch the foot " — is 

 their way of asking forgiveness. It was so like what we 

 have seen a little child do — try to bring a dish unbidden 



