My object being first of all to examine the country for a healthy locality, before attempting to make a path to either the East or West Coast, I proposed to Sekeletu the plan of ascending the great river which we had discovered in 1851.  He volunteered to accompany me, and, when we got about sixty miles away, on the road to Sesheke, we encountered Mpepe.  The Makololo, though possessing abundance of cattle, had never attempted to ride oxen until I advised it in 1851.  The Bechuanas generally were in the same condition, until Europeans came among them and imparted the idea of riding.  All their journeys previously were performed on foot.  Sekeletu and his companions were mounted on oxen, though, having neither saddle nor bridle, they were perpetually falling off.  Mpepe, armed with his little axe, came along a path parallel to, but a quarter of a mile distant from, that of our party, and, when he saw Sekeletu, he ran with all his might toward us; but Sekeletu, being on his guard, galloped off to an adjacent village.  He then withdrew somewhere till all our party came up.  Mpepe had given his own party to understand that he would cut down Sekeletu, either on their first meeting, or at the breaking up of their first conference.  The former intention having been thus frustrated, he then determined to effect his purpose after their first interview.  I happened to sit down between the two in the hut where they met.  Being tired with riding all day in the sun, I soon asked Sekeletu where I should sleep, and he replied, “Come, I will show you.”  As we rose together, I unconsciously covered Sekeletu’s body with mine, and saved him from the blow of the assassin.  I knew nothing of the plot, but remarked that all Mpepe’s men kept hold of their arms, even after we had sat down—­a thing quite unusual in the presence of a chief; and when Sekeletu showed me the hut in which I was to spend the night, he said to me, “That man wishes to kill me.”  I afterward learned that some of Mpepe’s attendants had divulged the secret; and, bearing in mind his father’s instructions, Sekeletu put Mpepe to death that night.  It was managed so quietly, that, although I was sleeping within a few yards of the scene, I knew nothing of it till the next day.  Nokuane went to the fire, at which Mpepe sat, with a handful of snuff, as if he were about to sit down and regale himself therewith.  Mpepe said to him, “Nsepisa” (cause me to take a pinch); and, as he held out his hand, Nokuane caught hold of it, while another man seized the other hand, and, leading him out a mile, speared him.  This is the common mode of executing criminals.  They are not allowed to speak; though on one occasion a man, feeling his wrist held too tightly, said, “Hold me gently, can’t you? you will soon be led out in the same way yourselves.”  Mpepe’s men fled to the Barotse, and, it being unadvisable for us to go thither during the commotion which followed on Mpepe’s death, we returned to Linyanti.