the British Government, his having asked to be placed
under British protection—chiefly in order to be protected
against the Matabele—made him a kind of spoilt child
whose whims were humoured in every way. His personal
importance grew daily in his own eyes.
When, however, it became necessary to place a magistrate
in the district the chief began to fret. He could
not or would not realize that he had to submit to British
laws, and when it became rumoured that the Chartered
Company was going to take over the country, his wrath
knew no bounds. At the bottom of his heart Khama
hates white men, and since his visit to England, where
he was treated like a great man, probably despises them
also.
To give an idea of Khama’s attitude towards white men
I shall anticipate my narrative a little and give an instance
of what happened between the Resident Magistrate,
myself, and him. When I returned from the Zambezi
the young Basuto boy who had accompanied me there
was suffering from very bad rheumatic fever, and was
unable to go to Matabeleland. I left him in charge
of one of Khama’s men, who undertook to take care of
him upon being paid five shillings a week. When I
returned to Palapshwe this native came to me and said
that the boy was dead. At the same time he claimed
fifteen weeks’ payment for the keep of the boy and one
pound for funeral expenses. “ But,” I said, “ how do I
know that the boy died when you tell me, and what are
these funeral expenses?”
“ Well, master, no one would help me to bury the
boy, as he was a stranger, and as to the date of his death
you can ascertain it by asking Khama.”
I asked the man if he had reported the death to the
English magistrate, but he replied in the negative. I
therefore declined to pay what he asked for. The next
morning Khama came to my waggon. I bade him good
morning, and he opened the conversation, by saying that
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he wanted me to pay at once the amount claimed by his
man.
“ Look here, Khama,” I replied, “ how is it that the
boy’s death has not been reported to the magistrate ? He
was a British subject from Kimberley, and I must have
a certificate of his death.”
“ The man reported his death to me,” said Khama,
I and that’s enough.”
“ No, my friend; the magistrate is here to administer
the law, and he alone can give a death certificate.
Besides, I do not understand you when you come and
say that you want me to pay your man at once; you
are the chief of the Bamangwato, but the magistrate
is the chief of the White Men, and I do not recognize
your right to give me orders.”
“ The magistrate,” said Khama; “ what is that to me ?
If you won’t pay I will prevent you from going away.”
“ You had better not try this game, Khama, for I would
then prove to you that the magistrate is here to administer
the law.”
Khama rose in great rage and went away.
Two days later Mr. Moffat, the Commissioner, returned
to Palapshwe during the night. Early in the morning
Khama again came to me.
“ I want you to come with me to Mr. Moffat at once,”
he said.
“ What,” I replied, § are you now Mr. Moffat’s orderly ?
Has Mr. Moffat sent you to me? If 'so, where is his
letter ? ”
“ What do you mean ? ” said the wily chief.
“ I mean that if Mr. Moffat wishes to see me he will
write to me; but as I told you before, I have no orders
to receive from you.”
“ So you decline to come to Mr. Moffat ? ”
“ Yes.”
“ Very well”—and Khama rose, trembling with rage.
After breakfast I called on Mr. Moffat and explained
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