At length we stopped just opposite a beautiful fortified kopje[*]
perforated by secret caves where the ammunition of the tribe is hidden.
No stranger is allowed to enter these caves, or even to ascend the
kopje, though they do not object to one's inspecting some of the other
fortifications. Dismounting from our wearied horses, we passed through a
cattle kraal and came into the presence of "Swasi," Secocoeni's uncle,
a fat old fellow who was busily engaged in braying a skin. Nearly every
male Basutu one meets, be he high or low, is braying a hide of some
sort, either by rubbing or by masticating it. It is a curious sight to
come across some twenty of these fellows, every one of them twisting or
chewing away.
[*] Afterwards stormed in the attack on Secocoeni's town by
Sir Garnet Wolseley.
Swasi was a sort of master of the household; his duty it was to receive
strangers and see that they were properly looked after; so, after
shaking hands with us furiously (he was a wonderful fellow to shake
hands), he conducted us to our hut.
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