Therefore, if one leaves the
road for two or three miles to the right or left, vast black plains are
discovered, on which only about a fortnight after burning a very vivid
green, and, it is said, a very sweet, grass springs up, which game of
all sorts greatly love. Here they graze in herds morning and evening,
and here probably they meet their death--but of this more anon. It took
our party ten days to reach Kalomo,[50] then the capital of
North-Western Rhodesia. This included a six days' halt in quest of game
on a rocky kopje eight miles off the road--a veritable Spion Kop, rising
from a flat country and commanding views for miles round.
As regards travelling, I can only say it was very comfortable as we did
it. Riding ourselves, our baggage (divided into loads each weighing
about 30 pounds) was carried by natives, who generally preceded us out
of camp. The day's journey was divided as follows: Up before the sun,
and dressing by the uncertain light of a candle lantern. It was cold
enough to render no dawdling possible, and one hurried one's toilet in
order to get to the already brightly burning fire and steaming hot
coffee. The sun would just then be showing its red head in the far east,
and already the camp was in commotion; tents were being struck, bedding
rolled up, while a certain amount of scrambling would be going on
amongst the cunning blacks, each wishing to possess himself of the
lightest load.
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