THE YOUNG NIMRODS IN NORTH AMERICA
THE YOUNG NIMRODS AROUND THE WORLD

2 vols., Copiously Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $2.50 each.

HARPER & BROTHERS, Publishers, New York

How I "visited" Mashonaland.

Older readers are always glad to hear from our entertaining correspondent in South Africa, and we are sure that new readers will no less enjoy her delightful morsels. She tells us this time how she visited Mashonaland without leaving Cape Colony. She wonders if she is too old, having just passed her eighteenth birthday. We beg to assure her she is not, and that the Table will be pleased to hear from her for many years yet. Here is her morsel. It is written from Roydon, Queenstown, Cape Colony, South Africa:

A few months before the rebellion in Mashonaland broke out, a young gentleman of my acquaintance made up his mind to have a six months' tour through this new country. He went beyond the great Zambesi River, and had many strange adventures. I am afraid I will not have space to tell you of more than two of them.

While hunting near the Zambesi, Mr. H—— was told that a lion had been creating a great disturbance in the neighborhood. He offered to go and hunt it if the chief would lend him some of his men. But on no account could they be induced to accompany him. Growing impatient at last, he set off with a few of his own servants. They followed the spoor of the animal for some little time, until they came to a dense bush. Glancing back, Mr. H—— saw that his followers were not far behind him, so he went on, looking carefully about him. At last he saw before him two large trees; behind one of them stood "King Leo." A rapid glance back sufficed to show that his cowardly servants had deserted him, and he was quite alone. He fired at the lion, which gave a fearful roar and sprang at him. Fortunately, however, the shot had disabled it, and it sprang short. Mr. H—— gave it another shot and killed it. On going in search of his men, the hunter found them hidden among the branches of the trees, too much terrified even to answer him. Mr. Selous says it is the second largest lion he has seen. The skin is very handsome, but as I examined it I felt very thankful that its owner was not alive.

The second adventure was rather a comical one. While camping out one day Mr. H—— heard what he thought was the report of a gun. Knowing elephants were about, he concluded that some one was hunting them. Snatching up his gun, he hastily set off in the direction of the sound, without taking a mouthful of food. On and on he tramped, but never a sight of either elephants or hunters did he catch. Still, every now and then he heard the report of guns, sometimes near at hand, sometimes far off. He walked for thirty-six hours, hoping to be rewarded by the sight of the elephants. At last he saw below him a thickly wooded ravine, in which the animals might be hidden. He scrambled down to it, and sat down under a huge tree to rest. Suddenly he heard the report just above his head. Springing to his feet, he looked up, and—the mystery was explained. The tree was full of peculiar-looking pods, which every now and then burst with a loud report. It was rather exasperating to have walked all that way for nothing, was it not?

I was very much delighted with his fine collection of horns. They were all of different kinds, and of different sizes, some of them being exceedingly handsome. Two very large python-skins next attracted my attention. Imagine my surprise when Mr. H—— coolly told me they were considered quite small in Mashonaland! "I'm never going there until it is civilized, then," I said, very decidedly.

"Did you notice any signs of rebellion during your travels?" I asked one day. "No," was the answer. "It struck me that the natives were a very subdued race, and I feel sure it is some under-handed dealing which has caused the revolt. The natives were exceedingly kind to me. As soon as I entered a new territory I would go to the chief and say, 'I want to go hunting; can you give me a guide?' The chief would answer, 'Yes, I will give you a guide to such and such a place. That is as far as my territory extends.' They never asked for pay, which was rather refreshing after being used to the civilized (?) natives of Cape Colony. Their first question is always, 'What will you give me for doing it?'" The Mashonas have no idea of money.

On his return journey he wanted to buy some grain, and sent word to the chief. Next day a number of natives came, each carrying a basket of grain. "How much do you want for it?" asked Mr. H——. They named their price—a high one—which he refused to give. There was a big argument, and he was beginning to think he would not be able to get the grain, when it struck him to offer salt for it. Pulling out a handful of salt from a bag, he asked the natives what they would give for it. "So much!" they cried, eagerly, indicating the quantity of grain. So, at the end of the day, he got as much grain as he wanted for a few handfuls of salt. Time and space fail me, or I would tell you about some other curious things I saw—of the queer little chair and table, both cut from a single piece of wood, and which belonged to Lobenguela's brother, of the cream-of-tartar trees, and many other funny things. But—I can almost see the frown on Mr. Editor's face as he contemplates the length of this so-called "morsel," and I daren't write more. However, if he will kindly give me permission I will write again, and tell you more of my interesting "visit to Mashonaland." In the mean time I will bid you good-by.

Your friend,
Isma Fincham, R.T.F.