Khama is the paramount chief of the Bawangwato tribe, whose territory is included in the British Bechuanaland protectorate, situated about one thousand miles due north from Cape Town. There are about fifteen thousand men, women, and children in the kingdom, and every one of that number tries to emulate the noble examples set by their king, whom all adore. The country and climate of Khama’s Kingdom, as it is officially called, are magnificent, and so harmless and inoffensive are the people that the traveller is less exposed to attacks by marauders than he is in the streets along New York’s water front. Many Europeans have settled in Khama’s Kingdom for the purpose of mining and trading, and these have assisted in placing the Bawangwatos on a plane of civilization far above and beyond that attained by any other negro nation or tribe in the country. A form of government has been adopted, and is carried out with excellent results. The laws, which must be sanctioned by the British Government before they can be put in force, are transgressed with an infrequency that puts to shame many a country of boasted ancient civilization. Theft is unknown and murders are unheard of, while drunkenness is to be seen only when a white man smuggles liquor into the country. A public-school system has been introduced, and has resulted in giving a fairly good education to all the youth. Even music is taught, and several of the brass bands that have been organized compare favourably with such as are found in many rural communities in America. Well-regulated farms and cattle ranches are located in all parts of the territory, and in most instances are profitably and wisely conducted. The negroes have abandoned the use of beads and skins almost entirely, and now pattern after Europeans in the matter of clothing. Witchcraft and kindred vices have not been practised for fifty years, and only the older members of the tribe know that such practices existed. The remarkable man to whom is due the honour of having civilized an entire nation of heathen is now about eighty years old. He speaks the English language fluently, and writes it much more legibly than his distinguished friend Cecil Rhodes. Khama is about six feet in height, well proportioned, and remarkably strong despite his great age. His skin is not black, but of that dark copper colour borne by negro chiefs of the royal line. He has the bearing of a nobleman, and is extremely polite and affable in his treatment of visitors. He is well informed on all current topics, and his knowledge of South African men and affairs is wonderful. In his residence, which is constructed of stone and on English lines, Khama has all the accessories necessary for a civilized man’s comfort. He has a library of no small size, a piano for his grandchildren, a folding bed for himself, and, not least of all, an American carriage of state.