endunas. This story was corroborated by Umhelo, who
belonged to the town of Buluwayo, and was of the king’s
regiment—Amahlogohlogo.
The voluminous evidence which Mr. Thomas’s journal
contains, and also the word of men living in Matabeli-land,
and who belonged to the party, distinctly proves that the
people were not poisoned, but assegaied by order of the
king, who was compelled to act in accordance with the
wishes of his endunas. Bearing in mind his fair dealings
with the white man, however, it may be assumed that the
order was involuntary on his part.
I must say that this was the only place in Matabeli-land
where I observed signs of any real industry. The endeavour
to make a home and improve was very apparent. Young
Mr. Thomas worked hard, and had a large tract under cultivation,
with plenty of fruit-trees—banana, orange and lemon
—all bearing well. He also irrigated on a small scale.
Such a man may well be emulated by the black people
who live around his home; but industrial emulation is not
one of the predominant traits of their character, which looks
up to excellence in the art of war as the only goal of life’s
purpose. I must be excused for thinking that a man who
shows the fruits of his labour in a form so substantial and
comprehensible, should in time be able to exercise a very
powerful influence over the warlike aborigine. He manifests
in a tangible way that there is something real in the white
man’s ascendancy, showing that it is not a mere matter of
story, but a fruitful experience, carrying with it the blessings
of prosperity, and indicating that there is something
true in the labours of that best pioneer of civilisation and
progress—the practical teacher of the gospel of Work.
Mr. Thomas kindly said that he would assist me in any
way he could. The oxen, however, that he was good enough
to offer as a loan were at the mission station, Umhlangene
or Inyati, twenty-five miles to the north-east. So saddling
up the horses, and sending the waggon on with the same
oxen, we started.
The weather had looked very threatening; heavy black
clouds went scudding across the sky, and just as we arrived
at Mr. Elliot’s house (the mission station) they suddenly
burst, and down poured the rain in torrents. When the
waggon arrived, the boys all looked miserable enough.
This station is the last outpost of the London Missionary
Society. The mission has been in Matabeli-land for about
a quarter of a century.
Mr. Elliot, a most estimable gentleman who is now alone
at this station, will make a good impression upon the
natives, for he is an excellent doctor, and willing to dispense
all kinds of medicine if the people will only accept it.
We were most fortunate in collecting twelve good oxen,
the property of Mr. Thomas, to whom I was and am indebted
for this as well as many other favours. Had he not come
to my aid at that time, I do not know what could have been
done, trained oxen being very scarce.
As I now had little or no hope of seeing a white face for
a very long time, or of being able to procure any of the
articles necessary for exploration work, I busied myself for
the next two days in preparing sketch maps, drawing-pad,
and so forth, and also made some observations of the sun
to find the variation of the compass, and test that all the
instruments were in working order. Mrs. Elliot kindly
made me many nice things for the road, and on the evening
of the 27th of May all was in readiness for a start.
The kindness shown to me by all was remarkable. When
I took leave of Inyati, and was saying good-bye to the
mission, Mr. Elliot said, as he handed me a letter :