My mind was busy with thoughts that at this juncture
some of the party, which had lingered far in the rear, would
inevitably pass the man whom I had left with orders to
stop them. Should that happen, and if they innocently
made the slightest noise they would soon attract the
attention of the wild Makanga.
Nearer and nearer we drew, until we could see the fires
blazing. For me the scene was one of the most intense
excitement. I could perceive the bronzed figures of
numerous men stark and clear in the flickering light of the
merry flames. Some of the men were eating, others were
grouped indifferently about.
No sooner did the Landin observe the position of affairs
than they turned round and beat a rapid retreat. Away
we sped at a good pace farther towards the east. Now I
could understand why the Landin were averse to day
travelling in this country—there was something else besides
the water difficulty and the heat.
After threading our way through stubborn jungle, over a
low, flat country, covered with high forests, in the midst of
which noxious gases rose from the heated soil with sickening
effect, we reached the foothills of the Kapirizange mountains,
where, after a halt, we gladly began the ascent.
Before advancing farther I asked Misiri for the little
kettle of water which I had given him to carry. This
was a trust I rarely allowed, but on this occasion he had
suggested it. Guilt was in his face when I asked him for
the kettle of water. “ There is none,” he said sheepishly.
Poor Misiri, the temptation had been too much for him.
The slopes were climbed and we reached the backbone of
a rugged spur. From this elevation we looked back, and
for the last time viewed the great basin of the Zambesi.
Towards the north lay a great mountainous region.
CAMP OF THE DREADED MAKAKGA.