On one thing Macora could congratulate himself. The chief Moselekatse, by driving him from his country, had profited but little. All the Makololo cattle and other objects of plunder had been safely got away out of reach of the robber chief. None of Macora’s people had remained in the land, so that there was no one to pay tribute to the conqueror; and the country had been left to the undisturbed possession of the wild beasts.
Macora’s tribe were not now living in a conquered condition; nor were they now prevented from paying a visit to their former home.
The plan proposed by the Makololo chief for catching the young giraffes, was to build a hopo or trap, in some convenient place where a herd of giraffes might be driven into it,—the old ones killed and the young ones secured alive.
No better plan could be devised than this, and it was unanimously adopted.
A site for the hopo has to be chosen with some judgment, so that labour may be saved in its construction; and, satisfied that the chief would act for the best, the hunters determined on leaving to him all the arrangements regarding it.
A suitable place for the trap, Macora remembered having seen, a few miles down the river; and thither they repaired.
On the way, they passed the ruins of the deserted village, and many of the natives recognised amid the heaps of rubbish the places that had once been their homes.
Five miles farther down, they reached the place which was to be enclosed as a hopo. It was a narrow valley or pass, leading from a large forest to the river-bank,—and the variety and quantity of spoor over its surface, proved that most animals of the country daily passed through it.
The forest consisted chiefly of mimosa-trees, whose leaves are the favourite food of the giraffe. Plenty of other timber was growing near, such as would be needed in constructing the required inclosure.
Macora promised that his people should go to work on the following day; when pits should be dug and trees felled for the fence of the hopo.