as not actually seen and yet the streak was
clearly perceived. The rays of planets and stars also require another
explanation than that usually given.

Fruit-trees and gigantic wild fig-trees, and circles of stones on which
corn safes were placed, with worn grindstones, point out where the
villages once stood. The only reason now assigned for this fine country
remaining desolate is the fear of fresh visitations by the Matebele. The
country now slopes gradually to the west into the Makololo Valley. Two
days' march from the Batoka village nearest the highlands, we met with
some hunters who were burning the dry grass, in order to attract the game
by the fresh vegetation which speedily springs up afterwards. The grass,
as already remarked, is excellent for cattle. One species, with leaves
having finely serrated edges, and of a reddish-brown colour, we noticed
our men eating: it tastes exactly like liquorice-root, and is named kezu-
kezu. The tsetse, known to the Batoka by the name "ndoka," does not
exist here, though buffaloes and elephants abound.

A small trap in the path, baited with a mouse, to catch spotted cats (_F.
Genetta_), is usually the first indication that we are drawing near to a
village; but when we get within the sounds of pounding corn, cockcrowing,
or the merry shouts of children at play, we know that the huts are but a
few yards off, though the trees conceal them from view. We reached, on
the 4th of August, Moachemba, the first of the Batoka villages which now
owe allegiance to Sekeletu, and could see distinctly with the naked eye,
in the great valley spread out before us, the columns of vapour rising
from the Victoria Falls, though upwards of 20 miles distant. We were
informed that, the rains having failed this year, the corn crops had been
lost, and great scarcity and much hunger prevailed from Sesheke to
Linyanti. Some of the reports which the men had heard from the Batoka of
the hills concerning their families, were here confirmed. Takelang's
wife had been killed by Mashotlane, the headman at the Falls, on a
charge, as usual, of witchcraft. Inchikola's two wives, believing him to
be dead, had married again; and Masakasa was intensely disgusted to hear
that two years ago his friends, upon a report of his death, threw his
shield over the Falls, slaughtered all his oxen, and held a species of
wild Irish wake, in honour of his memory: he said he meant to disown
them, and to say, when they come