28 LIFE OF DAVID LIVINGSTONE, LL.D. 



It might here be remarked, once for all, that the Dutch farmers, notwith- 

 standing all that has been said against them by some travellers, are, as a 

 people exceedingly hospitable and kind to strangers. Exceptions there are, 

 but these are few, and perhaps more rare than in any country under the sun. 

 Some of these worthy people on the borders of the colony congratulated me 

 on returning alive, having often heard, as they said, that I had been long 

 since murdered by Africaner. Much wonder was expressed at my narrow 

 escape from such a monster of cruelty, the report having been spread that Mr. 

 Ebner had but just escaped with the skin of his teeth. While some would 

 scarcely credit my identity ; my testimony as to the entire reformation of 

 Africaner's character, and his conversion, was discarded as the effusion of a 

 frenzied brain. 



"It sometimes afforded no little entertainment to Africaner and the 

 Namaquas, to hear a farmer denounce this supposed irreclaimable savage. 

 There were only a few, however, who were sceptical on this subject. At one 

 farm, a novel scene exhibited the state of feeling respecting Africaner and 

 myself, and likewise displayed the power of Divine grace under peculiar cir- 

 cumstances. It was necessary, from the scarcity of water, to call at such 

 houses as lay in our road. The farmer referred to was a good man in the 

 best sense of the word : and he and his wife had both shown me kindness on 

 my way to Namaqua-land. On approaching the house, which was on an 

 eminence, I directed my men to take the waggon to the valley below, while I 

 walked toward the house. The farmer, seeing a stranger, came slowly down 

 the descent to meet me. When within a few yards, I addressed him in the 

 usual way, and stretching out my hand, expressed my pleasure at seeing him 

 again. He put his hand behind him, and asked me, rather wildly, who I was. 

 I replied that I was Moffat, exj)ressing my wonder that he should have for- 

 gotten me. ' Moffat!' he rejoined, in a faltering voice, ' it is your ghost!" 1 

 and moved some steps backward. ' I am no ghost.' ' Don't come near me ! ' 

 he exclaimed, ' you have been long murdered by Africaner.' ' But i" am no 

 ghost,' I said, feeling my hands, as if to convince him and myself, too, of my 

 materiality ; but his alarm only increased ' Everybody says you were mur- 

 dered ; and a man told me he had seen your bones ; ' and he continued to gaze 

 at me, to the no small astonishment of the good wife and children, who were 

 standing at the door, as also to that of my people, who were looking on from 

 the waggon below. At length he extended his trembling hand, sayiug, ' When 

 did you rise from the dead ? ' 



" As he feared my presence would alarm his wife, we bent our steps towards 

 the waggon, and Africaner was the subject of our conversation. I gave him 

 in a few words my views of his present character, saying, ' He is now a 

 truly good man.' To which he replied, ' I can believe almost any thing you 

 say, but that I cannot credit; there are seven wonders in the world, that 



