S'8o DISAPPEARANCE OF MONAHIN. 



did not strike him that he ought to give the alarm. Next 

 morning I found to my sorrow that Monahin was gone, 

 and not a trace of him could be discovered. He had an 

 attack of pleuritis some weeks before, and had recovered, 

 but latterly complained a little of his head. I observed 

 him in good spirits on the way hither, and in crossing 

 some of the streams, as I was careful not to wet my feet, 

 he aided me, and several times joked at my becoming so 

 light. In the evening he sat beside my tent until it was 

 dark, and did not manifest any great alarm. It was 

 probably either a sudden fit of insanity, or, having gone 

 a little way out from the camp, he may have been carried 

 off by a lion, as this part of the country is full of them. 

 I incline to the former opinion, because sudden insanity 

 occurs when there is any unusual strain upon their minds. 

 Monahin was in command of the Batoka of Mokwine in 

 my party, and he was looked upon with great dislike by 

 all that chief's subjects. The only difficulties I had with 

 them arose in consequence of being obliged to give orders 

 through him. They said Mokwine is reported to have 

 been killed by the Makololo, but Monahin is the individual 

 who put forth his hand and slew him. When one of these 

 people kills in battle, he seems to have no compunction 

 afterwards, but when he makes a foray on his own respon- 

 sibility, and kills a man of note, the common people make 

 remarks to each other, which are reported to him, and 

 bring the affair perpetually to his remembrance. This 

 iteration on the conscience causes insanity, and when one 

 runs away in a wide country like this, the fugitive is never 

 heard of. Monahin had lately become afraid of his own 

 party from overhearing their remarks, and said more than 

 once to me, " They want to kill me." I believe if he ran 

 to any village they would take care of him. I felt his loss 

 greatly, and spent three days in searching for him. He 

 was a sensible and most obliging man. I sent in the 

 morning to inform Monina of this sad event, and he at 

 once sent to all the gardens around, desiring the people to 

 look for him, and, should he come near, to bring him 

 home. He evidently sympathised with us in our sorrow, 

 and, afraid lest we might suspect him, added, " We never 

 catch nor kidnap people here. It is not our custom. It 

 Is considered as guilt among all the tribes." I gave him 

 credit for truthfulness, and he allowed us to move on 

 without further molestation. 



