They Would
Hollow Out A Little Hole In The Ground, Making A Little Dome Over
It; Then In Went A Few Hemp-Tops; And On To Them A Few Stones Made
Red Hot In A Fire.
Then the dome was closed up and a reed stuck
through it.
Then one man after another would go and draw up into
his lungs as much smoke as he could with one prolonged deep
inspiration; and then go apart and cough in a hard, hacking
distressing way for ten minutes at a time, and then back to the reed
for another pull. In addition to the worry of hearing their coughs,
the lhiamba gives you trouble with the men, for it spoils their
tempers, making them moody and fractious, and prone to quarrel with
each other; and when they get an excessive dose of it their society
is more terrifying than tolerable. I once came across three men who
had got into this state and a fourth man who had not, but was of the
party. They fought with him, and broke his head, and then we
proceeded on our way, one gentleman taking flying leaps at some
places, climbing up trees now and again, and embedding himself in
the bush alongside the path "because of the pools of moving blood on
it." ("If they had not kept moving," he said as he sat where he
fell - "he could have managed it") - the others having grand times
with various creatures, which, judging from their description of
them, I was truly thankful were not there.
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