The headmen, Mosale and Pekonyane, received him cordially, and lamented that they had so little to offer him.

Oh! had he only arrived the year previous, when there was abundance of milk and corn and beer.
Very early the next morning the old town-crier, Ma-Pulenyane, of his own accord made a public proclamation, which, in the perfect stillness of the town long before dawn, was striking: "I have dreamed! I have dreamed! I have dreamed! Thou Mosale and thou Pekonyane, my lords, be not faint- hearted, nor let your hearts be sore, but believe all the words of Monare (the Doctor) for his heart is white as milk towards the Makololo.

I dreamed that he was coming, and that the tribe would live, if you prayed to God and give heed to the word of Monare." Ma-Pulenyane showed Dr.
Livingstone the burying-place where poor Helmore and seven others were laid, distinguishing those whom he had put to rest, and those for whom Mafale had performed that last office.

Nothing whatever marked the spot, and with the native idea of _hiding_ the dead, it was said, "it will soon be all overgrown with bushes, for no one will cultivate there." None but Ma-Pulenyane approached the place, the others stood at a respectful distance; they invariably avoid everything connected with the dead, and no such thing as taking portions of human bodies to make charms of, as is the custom further north, has ever been known among the Makololo.
Sekeletu's health improved greatly during our visit, the melancholy foreboding left his spirits, and he became cheerful, but resolutely refused to leave his den, and appear in public till he was perfectly cured, and had regained what he considered his good looks.

He also feared lest some of those who had bewitched him originally might still be among the people, and neutralize our remedies.