“On we went, and at last were rising a hill, through what in Rocky Mountain phraseology would be called a ‘park.’ The word is an appropriate one, and I know no other that would describe this lovely spot, reminding me of similar scenes in the Rocky Mountains. The ground was open and park-like, with a fine sward and a few isolated trees, whilst all around--forming a complete amphitheatre--rose rugged kopjes in the distance. The moon shed a bright light on the whole. Suddenly, smash went the dissel-boom, away went the oxen with it, down went John most ludicrously on to the ground from the front-board, and the waggon came to a standstill. The great awkward tree, stuck in by Wankee[32] and John when we first came to grief, had at last become useless, and now we set about making ourselves comfortable for the night, intending to cut a fresh dissel-boom in the morning. It was about 8.20 when this ludicrous breakdown happened, and it is long since I have so thoroughly enjoyed a laugh as I did then at John’s expense. I was not sorry that we were stopping here, and, as I drank in the scene with delight, those parks in the mountains of the Far West were present to my mind, and I felt happy, scarcely knowing why. The part of the country we have passed through is called the ‘neck.’ To-night I heard the strange melancholy baying of wild dogs--an animal I have never seen. “_January 30th._--My pleasure in the place where we are outspanned was put an end to this morning by a crowd of noisy forward Matabele from a kraal a little distance off amongst the kopjes on our right. My men had sent early, and beer and large quantities of milk were brought. There were a few slaves here too, quite different in appearance and bearing from their conquerors. They are quiet and humble in demeanour, and profusely ornamented, where they can afford it, with brass wire in rings round the wrists, of what I have been told is Portuguese or native workmanship, though I think it may be brought up by our own traders. Blue cut beads, too, and skins are much worn. These original inhabitants, Mashonas I think, are far more in keeping with the scene, to my mind, than their supplanters.[33] [Illustration: NATIVE HUNTING-KNIVES.]