A long time after the period of our visit, the chief of the Lake, thinking to make soldiers of them, took the trouble to furnish them with shields. “Ah! we never had these before; that is the reason we have always succumbed. Now we will fight.” But a marauding party came from the Makololo, and our “Friends” at once paddled quickly, night and day, down the Zouga, never daring to look behind them till they reached the end of the river, at the point where we first saw it.
The canoes of these inland sailors are truly primitive craft: they are hollowed out of the trunks of single trees by means of iron adzes; and if the tree has a bend, so has the canoe. I liked the frank and manly bearing of these men, and, instead of sitting in the wagon, preferred a seat in one of the canoes. I found they regarded their rude vessels as the Arab does his camel. They have always fires in them, and prefer sleeping in them while on a journey to spending the night on shore. “On land you have lions,” say they, “serpents, hyaenas, and your enemies; but in your canoe, behind a bank of reed, nothing can harm you.” Their submissive disposition leads to their villages being frequently visited by hungry strangers. We had a pot on the fire in the canoe by the way, and when we drew near the villages devoured the contents. When fully satisfied ourselves, I found we could all look upon any intruders with perfect complacency, and show the pot in proof of having devoured the last morsel.
While ascending in this way the beautifully-wooded river, we came to a large stream flowing into it. This was the River Tamunak’le. I inquired whence it came. “Oh, from a country full of rivers—so many no one can tell their number—and full of large trees.” This was the first confirmation of statements I had heard from the Bakwains who had been with Sebituane, that the country beyond was not “the large sandy plateau” of the philosophers. The prospect of a highway capable of being traversed by boats to an entirely unexplored and very populous region, grew from that time forward stronger and stronger in my mind; so much so that, when we actually came to the lake, this idea occupied such a large portion of my mental vision that the actual discovery seemed of but little importance. I find I wrote, when the emotions caused by the magnificent prospects of the new country were first awakened in my breast, that they “might subject me to the charge of enthusiasm, a charge which I wished I deserved, as nothing good or great had ever been accomplished in the world without it."*
* Letters published by the Royal
Geographical Society.
Read 11th February and 8th April,
1850.


