sight.  The mouth, which, when she smiled, looked like a sword wound on the flank of a horse, now, when the “pout” is complete, looks like a crumpled concertina.  The groom again timidly advanced his hand towards the satin-covered arm of his spouse, and the “pout” became more pronounced than ever.  The white of one eye was slyly turned towards the bridesmaids, the other rolled with infinite subtlety in the direction of him who was to be her lord and master; and the “pout” grew larger and larger, until I was constrained to push my way amidst the maids to get a look behind the bride, for I fancied the back of her neck must surely have got somehow into the front of her face.  When I got to the front again the “pout” was still growing, the rich red lips in their midnight setting looking like some giant rose in full bloom that an elephant’s hoof had trodden upon.  So the show proceeded.  At last one of the bridesmaids stepped from amidst her sisters, and playfully pushed the bride in the direction of her home.  Then the “pout” gave way to a smile, the white teeth gleaming in the gap like tombstones in a Highland churchyard.  I had been a bit scared of her “pout,” but when she smiled I looked round anxiously for my horse.  After a little manoeuvring, the blissful pair marched cabinwards, with the whole group of naked men and maids circling round them, stamping their bare feet, kicking up clouds of dust like a mob of travelling cattle.  The men yelled some barbarous melody, flourished their arms, smote upon their breasts, and anon gripping a damsel by the waist circled afar like goats on a green grass hill slope.  The maids twisted and turned in fantastic figures, swaying their nobly fashioned bodies hither and thither, whilst they kept up a continuous wailing, sing-song cry.  So they passed from my sight into the regions of the honeymoon, and the clubbings and general hidings which follow it.

I only stayed a few days amongst these savages, but, short as my stay was, I arrived at the conclusion that the sooner they are disarmed the better.  There are hundreds of white women living upon isolated farms within easy riding distance of the Basuto villages, and as we are disarming the husbands and brothers of these women it is our solemn duty to see that the savage warriors have not the means within their reach to injure or outrage those whom we have left practically defenceless.  It is true that these women are the wives, daughters, and sisters of our enemy, but surely in all England there does not breathe a man so poor in spirit as to wish to place them at the mercy of a horde of barbarians.  Ours is a grave responsibility in regard to this matter.  Just at present the native warriors are quiet in their kraals, but a day will surely dawn when the younger and more turbulent fighting men will lust for the excitement of war.  They look upon the Boer farmers who dwell near their borders as so many interlopers, whose title deeds were signed by the rifle, and they