with dried grass, off the plain.  Herds of the new antelopes, lechwe, and poku, with the kokong, or gnus, and zebras stood gazing at us as we passed.  The mirage lifted them at times halfway to the clouds, and twisted them and the clumps of palms into strange unearthly forms.  The extensive and rich level plains by the banks, along the sides of which we paddled, would support a vast population, and might be easily irrigated from the Zambesi.  If watered, they would yield crops all the year round, and never suffer loss by drought.  The hippopotamus is killed here with long lance-like spears.  We saw two men, in a light canoe, stealing noiselessly down on one of these animals thought to be asleep; but it was on the alert, and they had quickly to retreat.  Comparatively few of these animals now remain between Sesheke and the Falls, and they are uncommonly wary, as it is certain death for one to be caught napping in the daytime.

On the 18th we entered Sesheke.  The old town, now in ruins, stands on the left bank of the river.  The people have built another on the same side, a quarter of a mile higher up, since their headman Moriantsiane was put to death for bewitching the chief with leprosy.  Sekeletu was on the right bank, near a number of temporary huts.  A man hailed us from the chiefs quarters, and requested us to rest under the old Kotla, or public meeting-place tree.  A young Makololo, with the large thighs which Zulus and most of this tribe have, crossed over to receive orders from the chief, who had not shown himself to the people since he was affected with leprosy.  On returning he ran for Mokele, the headman of the new town, who, after going over to Sekeletu, came back and conducted us to a small but good hut, and afterwards brought us a fine fat ox, as a present from the chief.  “This is a time of hunger,” he said, “and we have no meat, but we expect some soon from the Barotse Valley.”  We were entirely out of food when we reached Sesheke.  Never was better meat than that of the ox Sekeletu sent, and infinitely above the flesh of all kinds of game is beef!

A constant stream of visitors rolled in on us the day after our arrival.  Several of them, who had suffered affliction during the Doctor’s absence, seemed to be much affected on seeing him again.  All were in low spirits.  A severe drought had cut off the crops, and destroyed the pasture of Linyanti, and the people were scattered over the country in search of wild fruits, and the hospitality of those whose ground-nuts (Arachis hypogoea) had not failed.  Sekeletu’s leprosy brought troops of evils in its train.  Believing himself bewitched, he had suspected a number of his chief men, and had put some, with their families, to death; others had fled to distant tribes, and were living in exile.  The chief had shut himself up, and allowed no one to come into his presence but his uncle Mamire.  Ponwane, who had been as “head and eyes” to him, had just died; evidence, he thought, of the potent