Here a short halt was again made for a few days, to engage fresh Kafirs and prepare for the continuation of the journey northwards. Owing to the want of water in the country between here and Lake Ngami, the part of the proposed expedition which included a visit to the lake had to be abandoned, Frank Oates resolving to proceed, if possible, direct to the Zambesi, the rest of the party accompanying him north as far as the Tati river in search of sport, to return thence by the same route as they had come. Mr. Gray, the trader, had arrived at Bamangwato a few days earlier, and decided to wait there till the rains should come before proceeding on his journey to the lake. The following extracts from letters, sent home about this time by Frank Oates and his brother from Bamangwato, give some further details of the journey up to this point, and of the future plans and arrangements of the party. W. E. Oates writes as follows on July 30th:-- “We got here yesterday afternoon all right, though for the last four days there has been scarcely any water on the road. When we left the Crocodile River (on the 25th) we filled our water-casks, and the next night got to some brackish water, which the oxen drank. We trekked all the following day and half through the night, when we reached some water-pits made by the Kafirs, from which the water had to be ladled out in buckets for the oxen. We had then about 25 miles to go without water to get here, which took us two days, all through heavy sand, through which the oxen go about two miles an hour. This is a wretched place; an immense number of Kafir huts, and a few stores belonging to white men. The name of the place is Shoshong, and the king, Sekomi, lives here. He is a hideous old nigger, and this morning came down to our waggons, to beg coffee and sugar. He had about a dozen dirty old wretches with him, who carried jackals’ tails, and attend him whenever he goes in state. He jumped up on Frank’s waggon, and refused to depart until he had had some coffee given him, which Frank gave him to get rid of him. I offered him a bright green scarf I had, but after examining it carefully he returned it to me.... “This is a most uninteresting country--all thorns and sand. The whole way from Pretoria here it is thick bush, composed mostly of stunted thorn trees, whose thorns are white and about four inches long. We stayed four days on the Crocodile River, as our oxen wanted rest. The lions were roaring round the waggons at night, in hopes of getting at the oxen. We have the latter carefully tied up to the waggons at night, and two or three immense fires lighted, to keep them off.