“After last writing to you, I left here on the 25th of July in company with the trader I told you of. Some delay ensued when we were one day from here, occasioned by reports of the road being stopped by the king. I had with me the man given me by his Majesty to see me safely through the Makalakas on my way to the Zambesi, and a precious rascal he was. Some people came up to the waggons with great demonstrations, one of them rushing about and flourishing a battle-axe. I adopted my usual course, in such cases, of lighting a pipe and sitting on the front-box of my waggon, watching the performance, varying my tactics by turning my back on him. He professed to have authority from the king to stop all waggons going to the Zambesi, and lugged in poor old Mosilikatze’s name, as is usual in grand orations, and made my boys shake in their shoes, metaphorically speaking, by informing them that the order was that any of the king’s subjects accompanying white men to the Zambesi were to be killed. “The son of Manyami, the man given me expressly to shut up this sort of bounce, suggested that this might be some new order from the king. I therefore lost no time in sending him off with a letter to headquarters, requesting full instructions, as Manyami’s son had not seen the king at all about the affair, but I had simply taken him, as the king told me, from his father’s kraal on my way from Gubuleweyo to Tati. Old Manyami is the man who used to stop all waggons coming into the country till the king had given leave for them to proceed, and he stopped me when I first came myself, as I dare say I told you at the time. This is done, however, at a different kraal now--the first one passed by any waggons going from here to Gubuleweyo, about forty miles north-east of Tati. In the meantime I remained on the Ramaqueban, my ally riding over to Tati once or twice.