It appears that Fernie and Black first met in Bulawayo. How, exactly, I don't know. They had bought a donkey-waggon and set out for the Zambesi river, which they crossed at a place called Kazungula, some forty-five miles above the Victoria Falls.
Their introduction to me was a curious one. Fernie walked into my camp one day, followed by Black. He said: "Are you the magistrate of these parts?"
"Yes."
"Well, will you sell us up?"
"What do you mean?"
"You see, we're partners, Black and I. We don't get on as such and want to dissolve. Isn't that so, Black?"
"Yes."
"So we want you to sell us up; sell our outfit as it stands—waggon, donkeys, and everything else we've got. Don't we, Black?"
"Yes."
"But," I said, "who do you expect to buy in a place like this? There isn't a white man within a couple of hundred miles. I'm not buying donkeys, and the natives can't."