There were five men killed by the king, at Lee’s, Karl says, for refusing to come to live here; they said it was only fit for monkeys. Near here was old Makobi’s kraal, where all were massacred for deceiving the king, after owning allegiance to him. A large quantity of milk was brought to us for sale. Heavy showers came on, but the night was fine, clear, and starlight. Where we passed Klaas an elephant had passed during the night. They followed his spoor, but lost it. Smith shot a cow-elephant near here a year or two ago, and they say a surly toothless bull-elephant lives about here now. The kopje looked very pretty at night when all was quiet, and its dark sugar-loaf form loomed up close to us against the starry sky.” Next day (February 9th), on reaching the Inkwesi, Frank Oates chanced to be alone, Smith having gone on in advance, in company with the Hottentot above referred to. “After Karl had been to the kraal about boys,” writes the traveller that day, “we inspanned at 10.30 A.M., and trekked about an hour, when we came to the drift of the Inkwesi. The induna rode on my front-box. Some of the road was rough; scenery pretty. Had to chop down part of a tree against which we were running. We found Smith had crossed, and I sent in boys to try the depth, and, though it was deep, I resolved to push forward, for fear of rain and a swollen current. In some places it was over a man’s middle. We stuck in the river; had many attempts to get out, but without success. Two small oxen got half drowned, and we outspanned them and inspanned two large ones. The boy who was leading the front oxen let go the strap he held them by, and we had a great deal of trouble. At last we off-loaded a large part of our cargo, sending it over on the boys’ backs. I worked hard; so did Karl. I then undressed and left the waggon before they tried to get it on again. Old Smith now came up to us, in the unadorned garb of nature, and mounted the front-box. (He thrashed a young nigger for laughing at his appearance.) They got the waggon out this time, but some of the oxen had to swim. Very little water got inside, and we loaded up again, and at sundown inspanned to go a few yards to where Smith and Klaas were already encamped. At night we all had supper together, Smith contributing some excellent ‘stamped corn.’ This is a capital dish. The corn is first crushed, then boiled, and, when this is over, salt and butter or fat stirred up with it. It is something like stiff rice-pudding.”