loves quiet and a home. Still, I gave way, partly to please him, partly
because I hoped that we might discover something of interest, and still
more because, having once undertaken an enterprise, my pride prompted me
to see it through.

Now while he was preparing to draw his map in the ashes, or afterwards,
I forget which, Zikali had told me that when we drew near to the great
river we should come to a place on the edge of bush-veld that ran down
to the river, where a white man lived, adding, after casting his bones
and reading from them, that he thought this white man was a "trek-Boer."
This, I should explain, means a Dutchman who has travelled away from
wherever he lived and made a home for himself in the wilderness, as some
wandering spirit and the desire to be free of authority often prompt
these people to do. Also, after another inspection of his enchanted
knuckle-bones, he had declared that something remarkable would happen to
this man or his family, while I was visiting him. Lastly in that map he
drew in the ashes, the details of which were impressed so indelibly
upon my memory, he had shown me where I should find the dwelling of this
white man, of whom and of whose habitation doubtless he knew through
the many spies who seemed to be at the service of all witch-doctors, and
more especially of Zikali, the greatest among them.

Travelling by the sun and the compress I had trekked steadily in
the exact direction which he indicated, to find that in this useful
particular he was well named the "Opener-of-Roads," since always before
me I found a practicable path, although to the right or to the left
there would have been none. Thus when we came to mountains, it was at a
spot where we discovered a pass; when we came to swamps it was where a
ridge of high ground ran between, and so forth. Also such tribes as we
met upon our journey always proved of a friendly character, although