We Saw In Her Garden Likewise
The Indian Bringalls, Yams, And Sweet Potatoes.
Several trees were planted
in the middle of the yard, and in the deep shade they gave
stood the huts of his fine family.
His children, all by one mother,
very black, but comely to view, were the finest negro family I ever saw.
We were much pleased with the frank friendship and liberality of this man
and his wife. She asked me to bring her a cloth from the white man's country;
but, when we returned, poor Mozinkwa's wife was in her grave,
and he, as is the custom, had abandoned trees, garden, and huts to ruin.
They can not live on a spot where a favorite wife has died, probably because
unable to bear the remembrance of the happy times they have spent there,
or afraid to remain in a spot where death has once visited the establishment.
If ever the place is revisited, it is to pray to her, or make some offering.
This feeling renders any permanent village in the country impossible.
We learned from Mozinkwa that Soana Molopo was the elder brother of Katema,
but that he was wanting in wisdom; and Katema, by purchasing cattle
and receiving in a kind manner all the fugitives who came to him, had secured
the birthright to himself, so far as influence in the country is concerned.
Soana's first address to us did not savor much of African wisdom.
FRIDAY, 10TH. On leaving Mozinkwa's hospitable mansion
we crossed another stream, about forty yards wide, in canoes.
While this tedious process was going on, I was informed
that it is called the Mona-Kalueje, or brother of Kalueje,
as it flows into that river; that both the Kalueje and Livoa
flow into the Leeba; and that the Chifumadze, swollen by the Lotembwa,
is a feeder of that river also, below the point where we lately crossed it.
It may be remarked here that these rivers were now in flood,
and that the water was all perfectly clear.
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