The forest, through which we were slowly toiling, daily became more dense, and we were kept almost constantly at work with the axe; there was much more leafiness in the trees here than farther south.  The leaves are chiefly of the pinnate and bi-pinnate forms, and are exceedingly beautiful when seen against the sky; a great variety of the papilionaceous family grow in this part of the country.

Fleming had until this time always assisted to drive his own wagon, but about the end of March he knocked up, as well as his people.  As I could not drive two wagons, I shared with him the remaining water, half a caskful, and went on, with the intention of coming back for him as soon as we should reach the next pool.  Heavy rain now commenced; I was employed the whole day in cutting down trees, and every stroke of the axe brought down a thick shower on my back, which in the hard work was very refreshing, as the water found its way down into my shoes.  In the evening we met some Bushmen, who volunteered to show us a pool; and having unyoked, I walked some miles in search of it.  As it became dark they showed their politeness—­a quality which is by no means confined entirely to the civilized—­by walking in front, breaking the branches which hung across the path, and pointing out the fallen trees.  On returning to the wagon, we found that being left alone had brought out some of Fleming’s energy, for he had managed to come up.

As the water in this pond dried up, we were soon obliged to move again.  One of the Bushmen took out his dice, and, after throwing them, said that God told him to go home.  He threw again in order to show me the command, but the opposite result followed; so he remained and was useful, for we lost the oxen again by a lion driving them off to a very great distance.  The lions here are not often heard.  They seem to have a wholesome dread of the Bushmen, who, when they observe evidence of a lion’s having made a full meal, follow up his spoor so quietly that his slumbers are not disturbed.  One discharges a poisoned arrow from a distance of only a few feet, while his companion simultaneously throws his skin cloak on the beast’s head.  The sudden surprise makes the lion lose his presence of mind, and he bounds away in the greatest confusion and terror.  Our friends here showed me the poison which they use on these occasions.  It is the entrails of a caterpillar called N’gwa, half an inch long.  They squeeze out these, and place them all around the bottom of the barb, and allow the poison to dry in the sun.  They are very careful in cleaning their nails after working with it, as a small portion introduced into a scratch acts like morbid matter in dissection wounds.  The agony is so great that the person cuts himself, calls for his mother’s breast as if he were returned in idea to his childhood again, or flies from human habitations a raging maniac.  The effects on the lion are equally terrible.  He is heard moaning in distress, and becomes furious, biting the trees and ground in rage.