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reasonable to suppose that a day's provision of meat would be exchangeable for one of milk, especially as meat is more prized, and the greater dainty of the two ; but it is not so, nor indeed anything like it. If a head of game be shot and bartered with the natives, it will be found a difficult matter to obtain a single gallon of milk for a whole gnu or zebra. Sweet milk can hardly be ever obtained, because Damaras, like all other milk-drinking nations, use it only when sour, and th-a cow is milked into the tainted vessels. They firmly believe that a cow's milk will fail her if they milk her into anything freshly washed and clean. The milk of these cows actually does fail them if the calf be taken away. It is the same with those in parts of South America,

March 13th.-We had arrived at the place where Kahikene waited for us. He and about forty magnificently made and well-armed Damaras were standing under the trees. As the waggons came near the men all fell into a single file according to their usual custom, which Kahikene headed, and they walked up to me. He had quite the manners of a chief, and received me very well. I gave him some gilt ornaments as presents, which, although he was in mourning, Ile put on in compliment to me; the Damaras strip off their ornaments when in mourning. He had been in great distresses of late. After Jonker had attacked him, and scattered his people at Schmelen's Hope, Omagunde's son, who was encamped two days in front of us, followed up the attack, and killed some of his children, and took others prisoners, leaving only one lad with him. The greater number of his oxen were also taken, and he was left almost destitute, with but the remnant of a tribe, and was now about to make a last desperate attack upon his enemy. A few years ago, Kahikene was the most powerful chief in Damaraland, and, like Katjimasha, had once allied himself with, and afterwards had separated from, Jonker. Subsequent to this separation, jonker attacked him, and he made a bold retaliation the next night, Ever since that he had been a marked man with the Hottentots, and werft after werft of his had been swept away, until he was reduced to the condition in which I found him.

He was the only friend among the Damaras that the Missionaries ever had, and his friendliness and frankness to me and my men interested all of us without exception most thoroughly in his favour.

He had brought his men together to make one quick and last attack upon the werft of Omagunde's son, and the usual superstitious