was also a sort of custom that as the sun went
down there should be a short truce from work every evening. A certain
eminence at the back of the station became, by common consent, the
meeting-place. There the missionary fathers of the hamlet would be
found, each sitting on his accustomed stone. Before them lay the broad
valley, once a reedy morass, now reclaimed and partitioned out into
garden lands; its margin fringed with long water-courses, overhung with
grey willows and the dark green syringa. On the low ground bordering the
valley stood the church, with its attendant mission-houses and schools,
and on the heights were perched the native villages, for the most part
composed of round, conical huts, not unlike corn-stacks at a distance,
with some more ambitious attempts at house-building in the shape of
semi-European cottages. Eastward stretched a grassy plain, bounded by
the horizon, and westward a similar plain, across which about five miles
distant, was a range of low hills. Down to the right, in a bushy dell,
was the little burying-ground, marked by a few trees."

In 1845, Robert Moffat narrowly escaped an accident that would have
involved most serious consequences. He was superintending the erection
of a new corn-mill, and whilst seeing to its being properly started,
incautiously stretched his arm over two cog-wheels. In an instant the
shirt sleeve was caught and drawn in, and with it the arm. Fortunately
the mill was stopped in time, but an ugly wound, six inches in length,
with torn edges, bore witness to the danger escaped. This wound laid him
aside for many weeks, but finally he recovered from the effects of the
accident.

For the next four or five years things pursued an even course at the
Kuruman. In 1846, Mary Moffat started on a journey to visit the
Livingstones at Chonwane. She availed herself of the escort of a native
hunting party, and took her three younger children with her. She passed
through the usual dangers of such a journey, as the following extract
from a letter written to her husband will show:--

"I am very glad of Boey's company.... I should indeed have felt very
solitary with my lone waggon with ignorant people, but he is so
completely at home in this field that one feels quite easy. We do not
stop at nights by the waters, but come to them at mid-day, and then
leave about three or four o'clock. We cannot but be constantly on the
outlook for lions, as we come on their spoor every day, and