
 
        
         
		my  apparatus,  and  when  it  was  ready  I  asked  permission  
 to  photograph  them.  They  did  not  understand.  
 All  the  same  they  showed  no  fear,  as  the  natives  of  
 other  villages  had  done.  Shortly  afterwards  a  number  
 of  children  came  round  me—a  little  mite  of  about  five  
 years  old  caught  hold  of  my  hand,  and  after  having  
 examined  and  felt  it,  caressed  it.  I  caught  hold  of  his  
 chin,  turning  up  his  face  to  mine,  on  which  he  smiled. 
 This  was  the  first  time  I  had  seen  native  children  so  
 tame;  generally  when  you  approach  them  they  run  
 away,  uttering  cries  like  those  of  a  young  monkey when  
 you  take  him  in  your  hand.  I  called  one  of  the  men,  
 and  told  him  to  look  into  the  camera.  He  was  astounded  
 and  delighted,  and made  the  others  come.  Then  
 men,  women,  and  children  impatiently  waited  their  turn  
 to  look  on  the  piece  of  ground  glass.  But  they  did  not  
 push.  They  took  the  greatest  care  not  to  upset  the  
 apparatus,  and  although  more  or  less  drunk,  they  were  
 all  gracious,  affable,  and  attentive.  In  short,  I  passed  
 two  most  interesting  hours  in  their  midst. 
 In  this  place  the  huts  differed  from  those  we  had  
 hitherto  come  across.  Their  dimensions  are  about  the  
 same,  but  they  are  in  the  shape  of  a  huge  beehive-;  the  
 thatch  is  much  neater,  and  kept  together  by  strips  of  
 bark  about  four  inches  apart.  The  spaces  also  in  front  
 of each hut are  oblong  instead  of  round.  The  ornaments  
 of  the  people  are  also  different.  Some  of  the  women  
 wear  massive  thick  copper  necklets.  Men  and  women  
 wear  necklaces  of  blue  and  white  beads  interspersed,  at  
 intervals  by  three  brass  buttons.  In  the  ears  three  iron  
 wires  are  frequent,  and  some  of  the  children  wear  a  
 piece  of  wood  a  little  more  than  an  inch  in  length.  
 As  in  other  tribes the babies  are  carried  about by  children  
 of  eight  or  ten  years  old,  pickaback,  and  supported  by  
 a  skin  attached  to  the  shoulders  and  round  the  waist.  
 Huts  are  of  bee-hive  shape,  very  similar  to  those  of  the  
 Wahha. 
 26 
 From  this  point  I  had  to  follow  the  Marico  river,  
 and  then  the  Limpopo  or  Crocodile  up  to  its  junction  
 with  the  Notwani.  As  I  proceeded,  the  aspect  of  the  
 country  greatly  changed.  As  the Marico widens, the belt  
 of  trees  by  which  it  is  bordered  becomes  broader  and  
 the  vegetation  more  abundant,  the  whole  plain  being  
 covered  with  brushwood.  The  Crocodile,  at  the  point  
 where  the  Marico  joins  it,  is  more  than  two  hundred  
 yards  across,  and  very  rapid.  It  runs  at  the  bottom  
 of  a  ravine,  which  it  quite  fills  in  the  rainy  season.  
 You  can  see  the  marks  of its  highest  level  on  the  banks,  
 about  sixteen  feet  from  its  actual  level.  It  is  fairly  
 abundant in  fish, but  it  is impossible  to  procure  specimens  
 without  a boat.  It  is  infested  with crocodiles. 
 27