CHAP. IV. HIS DEATH. 63 



lungs, which originated in an old wound got at Melita. I 

 saw his danger, but I was afraid 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 ; they would blame you." He had been 

 cured the year before by the Barotse making a large number 

 of free incisions in the chest. The Ylakololo doctors now 

 scarcely cut the skin. I visited him in company with my 

 little boy Eobert on the Sunday afternoon in which he died. 

 " Come near," said Sebituane, " and see if I am any longer a 

 man ; I am done." I ventured to assent, 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." After sitting with him some time, and commend- 

 ing him to the mercy of God, I rose to depart, when he raised 

 himself up a little, called a servant, and said, " Take Eobert to 

 Maunku (one of his wives), and tell her to give him some 

 milk." These were the last words of Sebituane. 



The burial of a Bechuana chief takes place in his cattle-pen, 

 and the cattle are driven for an hour or two around and over 

 the grave, that it may be entirely obliterated. We spoke to 

 the people, advising them to keep together and support the heir. 

 They took this kindly ; and in turn told us not to be alarmed, 

 for they would not think of ascribing the death of Sebituane to 

 us. He was decidedly the best specimen of a native chief I 

 ever met. I was never so much grieved by the loss of a 

 black man before ; and it was impossible not to follow him 

 in thought into the other world, and to realise somewhat of 

 the feelings of those who pray for the dead. The dark 

 question of what is to become of such as he, must, however, 

 be left where we find it. The " Judge of all the earth will 

 do right." 



At Sebituane's death the chieftainship devolved on a 

 daughter named Ma-mochisane, who was living twelve days 

 to the north, at Naliele. She gave us perfect liberty to visit 

 any part of the country we chose, and Mr. Oswell and myself 

 proceeded one hundred and thirty miles to the north-east, to 

 Sesheke. In the end of June, 1851, we were rewarded by 

 the discovery of the Zambesi, in the centre of the continent. 

 This was a most important point, for that river was not 



