MOZINKWA'S HOSPITAUTY. 293 



yard, and in the deep shade they gave, stood the huts of 

 his fine family. His children, all by one mother, very 

 black but comely to view, were the finest negro family I 

 ever saw. We were much pleased with the frank friend- 

 ship and liberality of this man and his wife. She asked 

 me to bring her a cloth from the white man's country, 

 but, when we returned, poor Mozinkwa's wife was in her 

 grave, and he, as is the custom, had abandoned trees, 

 garden, and huts to ruin. They cannot live on a spot 

 where a favourite wife has died, probably because unable 

 to bear the remembrance of the happy times they have 

 spent there, or afraid to remain in a spot where death has 

 once visited the establishment. If ever the place is 

 re-visited, it is to pray to her, or make some offering. 

 This feeling renders any permanent village in the country 

 impossible. 



We learned from Mozinkwa that Soana Molopo was the 

 elder brother of Katema, but that he was wanting in 

 wisdom ; and Katema, by purchasing cattle and receiving 

 in a kind manner all the fugitives who came to him, had 

 secured the birthright to himself, so far as influence in 

 the country is concerned. Soana's first address to us did 

 not savour much of African wisdom. 



Friday, 10th. — On leaving Mozinkwa's hospitable man- 

 sion we crossed another stream, about forty yards wide, 

 in canoes. While this tedious process was going on, I was 

 informed that it is called the Mona-Kalueje, or brother of 

 Kalueje, as it flows into that river ; that both the Kalueje 

 and L,ivoa flow into the Leeba ; and that the Chifumddze, 

 swollen by the Lotembwa, is a feeder of that river also, 

 below the point where we lately crossed it. It may be 

 remarked here, that these rivers were now in flood, and 

 that the water was all perfectly clear. The vegetation on 

 the banks is so thickly planted, that the surface of the 

 earth is not abraded by the torrents. The grass is laid 

 flat, and forms a protection to the banks, which are 

 generally a stiff black loam. The fact of canoes being 

 upon them, shows that though not large, they are not 

 like the southern rivulets, which dry up during most of 

 the year, and render canoes unnecessary. 



As we were crossing the river, we were joined by a 

 messenger from Katema, called Shakatwala. This person 

 was a sort of steward or factotum to his chief. Kvery 

 chief has one attached to his person, and, though generally 



