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!
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