After fording the rapid Luia, we left our former path on the banks of the Zambesi, and struck off in a N.W. direction behind one of the hill ranges, the eastern end of which is called Mongwa, the name of an acacia, having a peculiarly strong fetor, found on it.Our route wound up a valley along a small mountain-stream which was nearly dry, and then crossed the rocky spurs of some of the lofty hills.The country was all very dry at the time, and no water was found except in an occasional spring and a few wells dug in the beds of watercourses.The people were poor, and always anxious to convince travellers of the fact.The men, unlike those on the plains, spend a good deal of their time in hunting; this may be because they have but little ground on the hill-sides suitable for gardens, and but little certainty of reaping what may be sown in the valleys.No women came forward in the hamlet, east of Chiperiziwa, where we halted for the night.Two shots had been fired at guinea-fowl a little way off in the valley; the women fled into the woods, and the men came to know if war was meant, and a few of the old folks only returned after hearing that we were for peace.The headman, Kambira, apologized for not having a present ready, and afterwards brought us some meal, a roasted coney (Hyrax capensis), and a pot of beer; he wished to be thought poor.The beer had come to him from a distance; he had none of his own.Like the Manganja, these people salute by clapping their hands.When a man comes to a place where others are seated, before sitting down he claps his hands to each in succession, and they do the same to him.If he has anything to tell, both speaker and hearer clap their hands at the close of every paragraph, and then again vigorously at the end of the speech.The guide, whom the headman gave us, thus saluted each of his comrades before he started off with us.There is so little difference in the language, that all the tribes of this region are virtually of one family.
We proceeded still in the same direction, and passed only two small hamlets during the day.Except the noise our men made on the march, everything was still around us:few birds were seen.The appearance of a whydahbird showed that he had not yet parted with his fine long plumes.We passed immense quantities of ebony and lignum-vitae, and the tree from whose smooth and bitter bark granaries are made for corn.The country generally is clothed with a forest of ordinary-sized trees.We slept in the little village near Sindabwe, where our men contrived to purchase plenty of beer, and were uncommonly boisterous all the evening.We breakfasted next morning under green wild date-palms, beside the fine flowery stream, which runs through the charming valley of Zibah.We now had Mount Chiperiziwa between us, and part of the river near Morumbwa, having in fact come north about in order to avoid the difficulties of our former path.The last of the deserters, a reputed thief, took French leave of us here.
He left the bundle of cloth he was carrying in the path a hundred yards in front of where we halted, but made off with the musket and most of the brass rings and beads of his comrade Shirimba, who had unsuspectingly intrusted them to his care.
Proceeding S.W. up this lovely valley, in about an hour's time we reached Sandia's village.The chief was said to be absent hunting, and they did not know when he would return.This is such a common answer to the inquiry after a headman, that one is inclined to think that it only means that they wish to know the stranger's object before exposing their superior to danger.As some of our men were ill, a halt was made here.
As we were unable to march next morning, six of our young men, anxious to try their muskets, went off to hunt elephants.For several hours they saw nothing, and some of them, getting tired, proposed to go to a village and buy food."No!" said Mantlanyane, "we came to hunt, so let us go on."In a short time they fell in with a herd of cow elephants and calves.As soon as the first cow caught sight of the hunters on the rocks above her, she, with true motherly instinct, placed her young one between her fore-legs for protection.The men were for scattering, and firing into the herd indiscriminately."That won't do," cried Mantlanyane, "let us all fire at this one."The poor beast received a volley, and ran down into the plain, where another shot killed her; the young one escaped with the herd.The men were wild with excitement, and danced round the fallen queen of the forest, with loud shouts and exultant songs.
They returned, bearing as trophies the tail and part of the trunk, and marched into camp as erect as soldiers, and evidently feeling that their stature had increased considerably since the morning.
