WANDERINGS. 
433 
18th .—Rain at last, but only in heavy passing 
showers. I am now outspanned under the very same 
tree as three years ago on my return from Mosilikatse’s 
with Martinus Swartz. I little expected then ever 
to be here again, as I had a very hard bout of it 
that time. I have led but a vagrant sort of life since 
then, doing little good for myself or anybody else, 
except supplying the ungrateful, half-starved Masaras 
and Maccalacas with abundance of flesh. I have 
scarcely ever been still, and must have journeyed over 
some twelve or fifteen thousand miles at least, and 
that at much less than foot pace, having been through 
the Transvaal Republic, Free State, and part of the 
Old Colony, twice down to Natal, and twice round 
Lake Ngami, and now over the Zambesi into 
Makololo and Batoka lands; and it is now, I think, 
nearly time to call a halt. 
I have this morning come over some very heavy 
sand-bolts, with thick trees, and sharp, short turns, 
entirely to my own satisfaction, with a very heavy 
wagon and the loss of two of my oxen, and I take 
a deal of merit to myself. It is rather exciting 
work, and, if I had only food, I should not mind it at 
all. I have got once more into a hilly country, which 
quite gladdens my eye after the immense amount of 
flat, uninteresting country I have lately passed over. 
2RA. — I have endless difficulties to contend with 
in the way of writing fluid, having lost my ink-bottle, 
and have nothing but a little tea and coarse gun¬ 
powder in a bullet-mould, which oozes out fast. I 
