Soon after we had encamped several natives came up and joined those with us. They were exceedingly polite and orderly--indeed the best conducted, most obliging natives I ever met with--never troubling or importuning for any thing, and not crowding around in that unmannerly disagreeable manner, which savages frequently adopt--nor did I ever find any of them guilty of theft; on the contrary, several times when we had left some article behind, they called to us, and pointed it out. To them we were indebted for the facilities we had enjoyed in obtaining water; for without their guidance, we could never have removed from any encampment without previously ascertaining where the next water could be procured; and to have done this would have caused us great delay, and much additional toil. By having them with us we were enabled to move with confidence and celerity; and in following their guidance we knew that we were taking that line of route which was the shortest, and the best practicable under the circumstances. Upon arriving at any of the watering places to which they had conducted us, they always pointed out the water, and gave it up to us entirely, no longer looking upon it as their own, and literally not taking a drink from it themselves when thirsty, without first asking permission from us. Surely this true politeness--this genuine hospitality of the untutored savage, may well put to the blush, for their exclusiveness and illiberality, his more civilised brethren. In how strong a light does such simple kindness of the inhabitant of the wilds to Europeans travelling through his country (when his fears are not excited or his prejudices violated,) stand contrasted with the treatment he experiences from them when they occupy his country, and dispossess him of his all.