Nambowe, the headman, is one of the Matebele or Zulus, who have had to flee from the anger of Moselekatse, to take refuge with the Makololo.
We spent Sunday, the 12th, at the village of Molele, a tall old Batoka, who was proud of having formerly been a great favourite with Sebituane.
In coming hither we passed through patches of forest abounding in all sorts of game.

The elephants' tusks, placed over graves, are now allowed to decay, and the skulls, which the former Batoka stuck on poles to ornament their villages, not being renewed, now crumble into dust.

Here the famine, of which we had heard, became apparent, Molele's people being employed in digging up the _tsitla_ root out of the marshes, and cutting out the soft core of the young palm-trees, for food.
The village, situated on the side of a wooded ridge, commands an extensive view of a great expanse of meadow and marsh lying along the bank of the river.

On these holmes herds of buffaloes and waterbucks daily graze in security, as they have in the reedy marshes a refuge into which they can run on the approach of danger.

The pretty little tianyane or ourebi is abundant further on, and herds of blue weldebeests or brindled gnus (_Katoblepas Gorgon_) amused us by their fantastic capers.
They present a much more ferocious aspect than the lion himself, but are quite timid.