When a man intends to set out on some expedition he goes to the chief of his village, and tells him. The chief presents an offering (mbepesi) to the spirit of his predecessor. This offering consists of a little flour, which he puts down very slowly at the top of his bed, or he may go to the verandah of the house of his deceased brother. As he puts down the offering he recites the words, “My son has come, he goes a journey, enlighten his eyes, preserve him on his journey, escort this child, may he return with his head unscathed (literally ‘green,’ wa uwisi). Please, please, let him undertake the journey, and be very successful.” If the flour do not fall so as to form a cone with a fine point there is a bad omen, and the journey is deferred. The remedy for this state of matters is to resort to the oracle (chisango) (I). It is seldom, however, that a bad omen is found at this stage, though some say it is possible. The oracle will explain what is the cause of the bad omen. Probably the man will be told to “try again”. If the cone form beautifully on this occasion, then it will be clear that the god wanted him merely to delay for a day or two, and for some good reason; but if the cone still refuse to form, resort is again had to the oracle. The oracle sets to work, and finds that some deceased relative has a hand in this obstruction. This relative must be propitiated by an offering. Or it maybe that a witch (msawi; Chinyasa, mfiti) is the cause of the trouble; then it is the duty of the oracle to declare who the witch is. This leads to a serious state of matters, which will very probably end in the death of this witch. A person cannot go to hunt with any assurance of safety till the witch has drunk the poisoned cup (mwai). We were much affected by a case of this kind that came under our notice. A village chief, Matope, was led to believe that he was bewitched. First his principal wife became seriously ill—the disease was consumption—she was treated with the usual English remedies, and Mrs MacDonald made a bed for her, which took the place of the hard mat upon which the poor native lies down to die. As the native fare is hard as the native bed, and the poor invalid could not relish it, we sent her some soup every day, as well as sugar of which she was exceedingly fond. Ultimately the disease ran its course, going through the same stages as the terrible malady does in England. One day the husband came to me and said, “There is mourning at our home”. The simple words revealed at once that the wife of the village chief was dead. We fully expected that, notwithstanding our remonstrances, some one would be accused of causing her death through witchcraft; but perhaps owing to the interest that we had taken in his wife all along, no one was accused on this occasion. He had four wives besides, and he soon supplied the place of the deceased by buying another wife, who was “very good to her children”.