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 Sepopo sitting with about thirty men squatting around him in perfect silence; my eye, as I entered, at once lighted upon one of these men who was bent down in a peculiarly demure attitude. It struck me immediately that he was not a Marutse native, and on looking again I saw that he was a half-caste.

Having asked the king whether he had heard of my wishes from Westbeech, and receiving an answer in the affirmative, I proceeded to explain to him, as definitely as I could, the object of my journey. He listened to me very attentively, and was silent for some moments, after which he said,—

“Can the white doctor speak Serotse or Sesuto?”

I replied that I knew neither.

“Can he then speak the language of these men?” and he pointed to two of the attendants squatting on the ground beside him, one of which was the sly-looking half-caste that I had already noticed.

On my asking who they were, the man servilely raised his hat, and in a fawning voice informed me that he and the companion at his side were Portuguese traders and good Christians. I further ascertained that they belong to the so-called Mambari, of whom I had heard all kinds of unpleasant stories. Sepopo introduced the man who had spoken to me by the name of Sykendu, adding that he was “a great man” and “a doctor,” but the hypocritical look which the fellow put on only confirmed me in the unfavourable impression I had formed of his character. Finding that I was not acquainted with their language, the king said that he considered it was quite necessary I should learn something of it before leaving Sesheke, as then these men might act