Chap. IV. 
HIS CHAKACTEE. 
89 
the latter might have paid dearly for liis obstruotiveness. Se- 
bituane knew everything that happened in the country, for he had 
the art of gaining the affections both of his own people and of 
strangers. When a party of poor men came to liis town to sell their 
hoes or skins, no matter how ungainly they might be, he soon 
knew them aU. A company of these indigent strangers, sitting 
far apart from the Makololo gentlemen around the cliief, would 
be surprised to see him come alone to them, and, sitting down, 
inquire if they were hungry. He would order an attendant to bring 
meal, milk, and honey, and, mixing them in them sight in order to 
remove any suspicion from their minds, make them feast, perhaps 
for the first time in their lives, on a lordly dish. Delighted beyond 
measure with his affability and liberahty, they felt their hearts 
warm towards liim, and gave him aU the information in their 
power; and as he never allowed a party of strangers to go away 
mthout giving every one of them, servants and all, a present, liis 
praises were sounded far and wide. He has a heart! he is wise I ” 
were the usual expressions we heard before we saw him. 
He was much pleased with the proof of confidence we had shown 
in bringing our clnldren, and promised to take us to see his country, 
so that we might choose a part in wliich to locate ourselves. Our 
plan was, that I should remain in the pursuit of my objects as a 
missionary, while Mr. OsweU explored the Zambesi to the east. 
Poor Sebituane, however, just after realising what he had so long 
ardently desired, fell sick of inflammation of the lungs, wliich 
originated in and extended from an old wound, got at Mehta. I 
saw his danger, but, being a stranger, I feared to treat him medi- 
caUy, lest, in the event of his death, I should be blamed by liis 
people. I mentioned this to one of his doctors, who said, Your 
fear is prudent and wise; this people would blame you.” He had 
been cured of tliis complaint during the year before by the Barotse 
making a large number of free incisions in the chest. The Mako¬ 
lolo doctors, on the other hand, now scarcely cut the skin. On 
the Sunday afternoon in which he died, when our usual rehgious 
service was over, I visited him with my little boy Eobert. Come 
near,” said Sebituane, “ and see if I am any longer a man; I am 
done.” He was thus sensible of the dangerous nature of his 
disease, so I ventured to assent, and added a single sentence re¬ 
garding hope after death. ‘‘ Why do you speak of death ? ” said 
