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 long for the time to come