THE BAKWAIN COUNTRY. 1 39 



country. The yellow or dun-colour prevails during a 

 great part of the year. The Bakwain hills are an ex- 

 ception to the usual flat surface, for they are covered with 

 green trees to their tops, and the valleys are often of the 

 most lovely green. The trees are larger too, and even the 

 plains of the Bakwain country contain trees instead of 

 bushes. If you look north from the hills we are now 

 leaving, the country partakes of this latter character. It 

 appears as if it were a flat covered with a forest of ordinary- 

 sized trees from 20 to 30 feet high, but when you travel 

 over it they are not so closely planted but that a waggon 

 with care may be guided among them. The grass grows 

 in tufts of the size of one's hat, with bare soft sand between. 

 Nowhere here have we an approach to English lawns, or 

 the pleasing appearance of English greensward. 



In no part of this country could European grain be 

 cultivated without irrigation. The natives all cultivate 

 the dourrha or holcus sorghum, maize, pumpkins, melons, 

 cucumbers, and different kinds of beans ; and they are 

 entirely dependent for the growth of these on rains. Their 

 instrument of culture is the hoe, and the chief labour 

 falls on the female portion of the community. In this 

 respect the Bechuanas closely resemble the Caffres. The 

 men engage in hunting, milk the cows, and have the entire 

 control of the cattle ; they prepare the skins, make the 

 clothing, and in many respects may be considered a nation 

 of tailors. 



When at Sekomi's we generally have heard his praises 

 sounded by a man who rises at break of day and utters 

 at the top of his voice the oration which that ruler is said 

 to have composed at his boguera. This repetition of his 

 :< leina," or oration, is so pleasing to a chief that he gener- 

 ally sends a handsome present to the man who does it. 



January 28th. — Passing on to Letloche, about twenty 

 miles beyond the Bamangwato, we found a fine supply 

 of water. This is a point of so much interest in that 

 country that the first question we ask of passers-by is 

 " Have you had water ? " the first inquiry a native puts 

 to a fellow-countryman is " Where is the rain ? " and, 

 though they are by no means an untruthful nation, the 

 answer generally is, "I don't know — there is none — we 

 are killed with hunger and by the sun." If news is asked 

 for, they commence with " There is no news, I heard some 

 lies only," and then tell all they know. 



