Every Mosuto rides, even if he has only a very short distance to go. To walk must either show great poverty (a terrible disgrace in a country where no one need be really poor), or a great lack of self-respect. The ponies they ride are hardy, sure-footed little animals, wonderfully easily broken in, and showing quite remarkable intelligence. As a rule they are very good-tempered. To see them coming down the steep hillsides at a hard gallop, urged on by their reckless riders, who seem to have no fear, simply takes one's breath away at first, yet one never sees them stumble, much less fall, and they seem quite to enjoy it. Many of the Basuto now ride on saddles, but even thus they ride entirely by balance, and their idea of getting the pony to "go" is by kicking him vigorously in the sides.
The women of course ride "astride," but are timid and ill at ease, only adopting this mode of travelling when the time is short and the way long.
The boys begin at a very early age, learning first on goats and calves, going on to young oxen, and ending up with horses. An ox race is really a most exciting spectacle, and many a tumble these fearless young riders get.
The oxen are trained to carry the bags of grain, which are balanced across their backs. Their noses are pierced, and a rope or reim run through the hole and fastened together to act as reins. In this way the boys are able to control the animals.
They guide them by hitting the horns on the opposite side from the direction in which they wish them to go. A Basutoland ox is seldom cross, and rarely kicks, very different from the vicious animals I saw in the Colony when I first came out. As a Mosuto's chief wealth lies in the number of cattle he possesses, he naturally takes a great interest in them, and acts of cruelty towards them are rare.
Almost all the heathen males possess at least two or three wives, and the families as a rule are large, most women having an average of from six to eight children.
The women are merely servants, little (if any) better than slaves, with few rights or privileges of their own, and utterly at the mercy of their husbands, who beat or pet them as so disposed.
Each wife has her own hut, her own "land," and her own children to look after, besides attending to the wants of her lord and master. The husband does the sowing and ploughing, but the woman does the weeding, watering, when necessary, and in fact, generally looks after her land, for the success or failure of which she is alone responsible.
Those who can afford to bribe with the offers of leting, jouala and other dainties, summon as many of their friends as desired to help in the work of sowing and reaping. The chiefs call all the able-bodied young men and women of their "Clan," and much work and not a little merriment is crowded into the day, frequent refreshments being served out to the workers. This combining of forces is called a "letsima," and a very noisy affair it is. The men all come armed with hoes, and of course mounted on their active little ponies. A truly alarming sight they are at a little distance to the stranger, until, on a nearer approach, he sees they are not armed with weapons of war, but with implements of peace. Sometimes as many as eight or nine hundred may be seen in an afternoon, in more or less regular order, wending their way to the village of their chief, ready to begin work on the morrow.
In the morning they set out for the "lands," singing as they go. When they work, the men form in line and keep time with their hoes, or (if in autumn) their reaping hooks, to the chant they sing, while behind come the women, adding their shrill trebles to the men's deeper notes. It is all very wild, but wonderfully picturesque, and so perfectly in keeping with the surrounding scenery.