about five minutes for every quart. After we had waited
an hour the other men came up, the Mashukolumbwe in
a violent perspiration and carrying triumphantly a dozen
beautiful honeycombs. This was the honey of the big
bee, a certain number of which were still adhering to the
comb. They are larger round than our European bees,
but much shorter and of a greyish colour. The natives
declare that they have no sting ; in fact, they removed
them with their fingers without harm. The honey is
very aromatic, and the natives are extremely fond of it.
After having prepared some food we were just getting
ready to start when about one hundred yards from us we
saw a human form, which immediately disappeared. With
savage yells my fellows started in pursuit, and in about
twenty minutes returned, leading a little old man, who
was trembling all over. He was a Masarwa Bushman,
and had taken us at first for Matabele, of whom they are
terribly afraid. When he perceived a European he was
perfectly reassured. I had just bought an ostrich egg of
him for a cup of grain, when suddenly there appeared by
him, without anybody having previously remarked his existence,
a little ■ monkey, who squatted behind the old man
and looked at us with astonished eyes. It turned out to be
the Masarwa’s little boy, and he offered to sell him to me
for another cup of grain. I offered him half a cup, and
he accepted. He had got up to go, leaving the little
animal behind him without an adieu, when I called him
back and told him I was only joking, and that I did not
want to buy his little one. His face grew very long, and
he insisted that the bargain had been completed. I then
explained to him that he might keep both grain and
child, at which news his serenity returned. What I really
wanted, I said, joking, was a boy from ten to twelve years
of age. This he informed me would be much dearer,
and-would cost at least a pound of powder. I told him
that was too dear, and without waiting for his reply we
continued our way. The old fellow plunged into the
forest, his little boy trotting quietly behind him. He was
about four years old, and as agile as a young gazelle.
The next day my men marched very well, never stopping
until 8.30 p.m., when the rain began to fall again,
and when we found it necessary to construct a shelter out
of the branches of trees, under which we again managed
to sleep. When I awoke the following morning (October
29th) the sun was shining brilliantly. We emerged from
the forest, and struck the long valley of Leshuma, which
is bordered by a low range of well-wooded hills, and
where, numerous springs of good water are to be found.
At this point we were not more than thirteen miles from
the Zambezi, and I calculated to reach it towards ten
o’clock in the evening. Nevertheless at the end of half
aji hour the men stopped and clamoured for food. The
experiences of the first day were repeated, and I refused
absolutely to give them anything to eat. It was of the
utmost importance that I should reach the river quickly,
as the Leshuma valley is infested with “ tsetse,” and my
donkey ran the risk of being stung. Neither entreaties
nor threats were of the slightest avail, the men declaring
that they would only start when the sun had reached a
point that they indicated, and which meant two o’clock in
the afternoon. In a tremendous passion I took all the
grain and gave it to my donkey, determined that if they
insisted on remaining they should at least do so on an
empty stomach. They consoled themselves by smoking
their dakka pipes, and would not budge an inch, and as
a matter of fact it was past two before we again made a
start.
At the end of an hour and a halfs march we entered
a forest. Here the vegetation assumed a very grand
appearance, gigantic trees rising high above a very thick
underwood. At about five o’clock we emerged from the
forest, and found a vast plain stretched at our feet, and
before us on the horizon a range of wooded hills.
We could not be far from the river, which I felt