Africa, Southern -- Description and travel; Natural history -- Africa, Southern
“To-day the rains may be said to have begun, but there will probably
not be much rain for some time yet. However, this morning was dark and
gloomy enough, though there are now signs of an improvement in the
weather. I have been here a fortnight, and am waiting till certain
necessary repairs are made in my waggon, my idea being to spend a few
weeks in this neighbourhood before finally leaving for Maritzburg....
In the meantime I mean to give you a little account of my doings
since my last letter to you, encouraged by Charley’s assurance that
my descriptions of the country and the account of my wanderings are
read with some little interest, though I fear I can only thank the
friendliness of my critics for anything interesting being found in
them. As, however, I receive the flattering assurance that they do
afford a little amusement I will proceed without further apology. A
mail is leaving here very shortly, as traders are now here on their
way to Mungwato, and will take letters. By the way, I am writing with
some of the desiccated ink I brought with me. I had a grand brew of
it yesterday, and it is an undoubted success. My table is formed by a
packing-case, and my chair is a box of gunpowder--but I am not smoking.
I am inhabiting a deserted house made by one of the former gold-diggers
here, and appropriated by a Dutch family, who, however, are from home.
The paterfamilias has gone to hunt for ivory in the Zambesi direction,
and taken his ‘vrouw,’ family, and furniture with him in his waggon.”
The narrative, here broken off, was again resumed, some days later:--
“_October 20th._
“I again take up my pen to continue the letter I began on the 1st of
this month, and which I hoped would have been a long way south of
Bamangwato by this time. The delay has been occasioned by the drought,
rendering the journey full of risk for the oxen. I promised you a short
_résumé_ of my doings and sufferings since I last wrote to you.
By sufferings, I don’t of course mean bodily ones, but what I have
suffered from rascally Kafirs, and which are only entitled to be called
annoyances.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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