torture, and to visit with unknown horrors, but to do good is beyond his power or inclination. He is generally employed by the witch-doctor. He hunts down his victim remorselessly until his object is accomplished. If by any unfortunate chance you meet him at night you must pass him silently and as though you saw him not. Some years ago, before I knew of the existence of this little creature, I was obliged to go down to our cow-shed at the bottom of the garden one night just before bedtime. The moon was nearly full and was shining brightly at the time. I was accompanied by our nurse-girl and our big black retriever. Nothing happened on the way down, and to my great relief I found the cows still quite well (rinderpest was raging through the country at the time), but as we were returning we suddenly heard what I thought was a dog running through the Residency garden towards us. There were a lot of dead leaves on the ground, and the creature's feet regularly rustled through them. I had barely said, "What's that?" when we heard the "ping" of the wire fence which divided the two gardens, and saw, crossing the path not a dozen yards in front of us, a little black creature about the size and shape of a boy of six. There was no mistaking the fact that it was a human form of some sort. It ran with a peculiar shuffle, moving its head from side to side. When my girl saw it she caught hold of me in terror, but uttered no word. The dog, on the contrary, gave vent to a sound, half bark, half howl, and tore off to the house, where we found him hiding under my little son's bed, thoroughly frightened. In this manner I made the acquaintance of Thokolosi. Of course my husband laughed at me and declared I had seen a baboon, but even he could not account for the dog's state of terror. The poor brute absolutely refused to come out from under the bed where he had taken refuge. Shortly afterwards the dogs in the Residency garden took to howling in the most terrible way every evening; the policeman who
