We Spent A Night On Mparira Island, Which Is Four Miles Long And
About One Mile Broad.
Mokompa, the headman, was away hunting
elephants.
His wife sent for him on our arrival, and he returned
next morning before we left. Taking advantage of the long-continued
drought, he had set fire to the reeds between the Chobe and Zambesi,
in such a manner as to drive the game out at one corner, where his
men laid in wait with their spears. He had killed five elephants and
three buffaloes, wounding several others which escaped.
On our land party coming up, we were told that the oxen were bitten
by the tsetse: they could see a great difference in their looks.
One was already eaten, and they now wished to slaughter another. A
third fell into a buffalo-pit next day, so our stock was soon
reduced.
The Batoka chief, Moshobotwane, again treated us with his usual
hospitality, giving us an ox, some meal, and milk. We took another
view of the grand Mosi-oa-tunya, and planted a quantity of seeds in
the garden on the island; but, as no one will renew the hedge, the
hippopotami will, doubtless, soon destroy what we planted.
Mashotlane assisted us. So much power was allowed to this under-
chief, that he appeared as if he had cast off the authority of
Sekeletu altogether. He did not show much courtesy to his
messengers; instead of giving them food, as is customary, he took the
meat out of a pot in their presence, and handed it to his own
followers.
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