C H A P T E R IX.
M A S H O N A L A N D
I L E F T Palapshwe on the 25th of July, and glad indeed
I was to think that this would be my last experience
of the villainous approaches to Khama’s village. The
first stage of the journey into Mashonaland was getting
to Macloutsie. The road diverged almost immediately
from that which I had followed to Tati on the way
to Matabeleland, but except for its unspeakable badness
it does not call for much comment. A good deal of it
was heavy sand alternating with forest. The oxen were
good for four or six hours’ travelling a day, and we
got into Macloutsie on the first of August. At this
station, which, until the colonization of Mashonaland,
was the northernmost position occupied by British troops,
I stayed three days. It was the principal post of
the Bechuanaland Border Police, and I received much
kindness from the officers of that fine irregular force.
Sir Frederick Carrington was their colonel at the time,
and his. stories were the delight of everybody. Even
then he had the reputation of being one of the very
best British officers who ever came to South Africa, and
that reputation, I need not remind anybody, he has
since maintained and heightened by his conduct of the
recent operations against the Matabele rebels. I had
met him before on my way to the Victoria Falls, and
great was his astonishment to find me still on the tramp.
O n th e 4 th o f A u g u s t w e jo lt e d ou t o f M a c lo u ts ie
on th e w a y to T u li. T h e jo u rn e y o c cu p ied - a w e ek ,
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M A SH O N A L A N D
and was only diversified by occasional rumours of lions ;
but beyond seeing two Dutchmen who had seen two
lions, I did not add much to my experiences of these
beasts. Instead of that I added something to my
already overwhelming experiences, of the manners and
customs of the draught ox, as a great many members
of my team spent the best part of their time being ill
and requiring medical attendance. A Dutchman I met
informed me that the whole team was suffering from foot
and mouth disease. “ The transport to Mashonaland,” he
added, “ is almost stopped through it, but if you follow
my advice your beasts ought to be all right in a fortnight.
You must throw each one of them every day and wash
their feet well with tepid water, then paint them with
paraffin oil and put a thick coating of waggon grease over
them. This done, rub their mouths well with powdered
alum, and pour a thin broth of mustard and water down
their throats. I then had nineteen oxen, and this meant
no easy job. Fortunately I possessed all the necessary
ingredients, and I began forthwith to follow the prescription.
The worst of it was that I had but four men with me, so
that the operation took a considerable time j but the result
was worthy of the trouble, as before I reached Victoria
every one of them was all right, and my team was the
only “ salted ” * one in the place.
I reached Tuli on the nth of August, and was now in
Mashonaland. Civilization at once presented itself in the
shape of a bar, where it was possible to get a whiskey
and soda. This was my first experience of that drink
for eighteen months. Here also I found myself in the
true frontier society, which is the same all over the
world. The barman was an excellent fellow, who at
one time had been well known in London Society. He
had held a commission in a crack Hussar regiment, and
* “ Salted” is a South African expression, meaning that an animal has
suffered from a usually fatal disease and, having recovered from it, is proof
against a fresh attack.