ass and the people in authority satisfy
themselves that we are quite in rule. Then the old chief walks
quietly in, takes off his soft felt hat and sits himself
down in a Windsor arm-chair with grave deliberation. He is
uncommonly ugly; but when one remembers that he is nearly
seventy years of age, it is astonishing to see how young
he looks. Langalibalele is not a true Kafir at all: he is a
Fingor, a half-caste tribe contemptuously christened by the
Kafirs "dogs." His wool grows in distinct and separate clumps
like hassocks of grass all over his head. He is a large and
powerful man and looks the picture of sleek contentment, as
well he may. Only one of his sons, a good-natured, fine
young man, black as ebony, is with him, and the chief's one
expressed grievance is that none of his wives will come to
him. In vain he sends commands and entreaties to these dusky
ladies to come and share his solitude. They return for answer
that "they are working for somebody else;" for, alas! the only
reason their presence is desired is that they may cultivate
some of the large extent of ground placed at the old chief's
disposal. Neither he nor his stalwart son would dream for
a moment of touching spade or hoe; but if the ladies of the
family could only be made to see their duty, an honest penny
might easily be turned by oats or rye. I gave him a large
packet of sugar-plums, which he seized with childish delight
and hid away exactly like the big monkeys at the Zoo.

By way of a joke, Malambuli pretended to want to take them
away, and the chattering and laughing which followed was
almost deafening. But by and by a gentleman of the party
presented a big parcel of the best tobacco, and the chuckling
old chief made over at once all my sweetmeats "jintly" to
his son, and proceeded to hide away his new treasure. He
was dressed exactly like a dissenting minister, and declared
through the interpreter he was perfectly comfortable. The
impression here seems to be that he is a restless, intriguing
and mischief-making old man, who may consider himself as
having come out of the hornets' nest he tried to stir up
uncommonly well.

We don't want to bump up and down the sandy plain again, so
a lively conversation goes on in Dutch about the road between
one of my gentlemen and somebody who looks like