of copper wire, whilst from one or two to as many as
twenty-four rings of copper wife are worn below the knee.
The feet are quite bare. Some are tattooed on the face
and some on the arms. These tattooings represent tribal
marks.
The next morning, accompanied by the telegraph clerk,
who acted as interpreter, I paid a visit to the chief
Ikaneng. I had to thread my way through a maze of
lanes, all of which, strange to say, seemed to lead into
other lanes inside, forming a regular labyrinth; but
probably this was so arranged to facilitate the defence
of the place in case of attack. We arrived at a kind
of square, and my guide pointed out the chief’s hut.
It seemed to me to differ neither in height nor size
from any of the others, but near it was a clear space
of four or five yards roofed over with branches. This
is called the lekothla: here the chief shows himself,
receives visitors, and administers justice. Ikaneng was
seated on a chair under the lekothla. He was a fine
man, powerfully built, at least six feet high, jet black,
and wearing a full grey beard—-this last a very rare
adornment among natives. Although over sixty-five years
old, he looked hardly more than fifty. He had on a suit
of greyish check clothes, flannel shirt, yellow shoes of
untanned hide (veldshoons) and woollen socks. A broad-
brimmed grey felt hat completed his costume. The only
piece of -jewellery that he displayed was a gold watch
and chain. He was seated on a low chair, holding in
his hand a stick, or rather wand, of steel, about a yard
and a half long, at the extremity of which was fixed an
old brass door-handle. When we approached he stretched
out his hand. I did likewise, and he held mine in his
for some seconds. He signed to us to sit down on seats
in front of him, and my guide explained that he had
sent for his interpreter, as he did not know a word of
either English or Dutch. While we were waiting, I
examined the natives surrounding him. There were
20
half a dozen of them all seated or crouched outside the
lekothla. The most striking in appearance was a toothless
old chap with a wrinkled face. He was quite naked
with the exception of a narrow cloth about his middle,
and a blanket thrown over his shoulders. Round his
neck was a strap, to which were suspended half a dozen
leather sheaths, which contained knives, scissors, and
the like. He was the local witch-doctor. The rest
were a lot of old men, who seemed fast asleep. At
length the interpreter arrived, and my guide commenced
by explaining in Dutch that I had been sent by the
French Government to study the people of the country.
Unfortunately the chief could not be made to understand
what or where France was. Then my guide
stated that the Governor of the Cape, Sir Henry Loch,
had given me letters of introduction. “ Sir Henry
Loch) “ the Cape,” “ Governor ” I neither the chief
nor the interpreter seemed to understand what all this
meant, though Sir Henry was at that moment Governor
of Bechuanaland. At last my guide explained that the
• Government had furnished me with letters of introduction
to the officials of the country. The chief thought there
was one for him, and insisted on having it. Did I come
from the Government? “ No,” my guide replied; I had
come to ask permissibn to take his portrait. “ Well,” said
the chief, “ you are nothing but humbugs. First you say
Government, then you say, ‘ Not from the Government.’
Bring me a letter from Sir Sidney Shippard, and I will
do anything you require.” It was not the slightest use
persuading or insisting. My guide told me that the chief
was a most obstinate man, and always worse when he was
in a bad temper. So I took my leave without having
succeeded in photographing him. He shook me most
cordially by the hand, and I retired. Next morning (July
20th) I arrived at Gaberones, about ninety miles from
Mafeking, a native village of considerable size, under the
rule of the chief Linchwee, whose capital is at Mochudi.