402 DISAPPEARANCE OF MONAHIN. Jhap. XXX. 



not receive them with the usual amount of clapping of hands 

 and humility, they at once burn his village. The children of 

 the chief have fewer privileges than common free men ; for 

 though they may not be sold, yet they are less eligible to the 

 chieftainship than even the most distant relations of the chief. 

 These free men form a distinct class who can never be sold ; 

 and under them there is a class of slaves whose appearance 

 as well as position is very degraded. The sons of free men 

 leave their parents about the age of puberty, and live for a 

 few years with such men as Monina for the sake of instruction. 

 While in this state they are kept under stringent regulations ; 

 they must salute a superior carefully, and, when any cooked 

 food is brought, the young men may not approach the dish, 

 but an elder divides a portion to each. They remain un- 

 married until a fresh set of youths is ready to occupy their 

 place under the same instruction. The parents send servants 

 with their sons to cultivate gardens for them, and also tusks 

 to Monina to purchase their clothing. When the lads return 

 to their native village, a case is submitted to them for adjudi- 

 cation, and, if they speak well on the point, the parents are 

 highly gratified. 



When we told Monina that we had nothing to present but 

 some hoes, he replied that he was not in need of those articles, 

 and that, as he had absolute power over the country in front, 

 he could, if he chose, prevent us from proceeding. Monina 

 himself seemed to credit our assertion, but his councillors 

 evidently thought that we had goods concealed about us, and 

 at their suggestion a war-dance was got up in the evening, 

 about a hundred yards from our encampment, as if to frighten 

 us out of presents. Some of Monina's young men had guns, 

 but most were armed with large bows, arrows, and spears. 

 They beat their drums furiously, and occasionally fired off a 

 gun. As this sort of dance is always the prelude to an attack, 

 my men quietly prepared themselves to give them a warm 

 reception. But an hour or two after dark the dance ceased, 

 and, as we then saw no one approaching us, we went to sleep. 

 During the night one of my head-men, Monahin, left the 

 encampment, probably in a fit of temnorary insanity, brought 

 on by illness. Next morning not a trace of him could be 

 found, and he may have fallen a prey to a lion. I sent in the 



