“The conversation turned specially on Kumpama of Cherasulo, and I expressed a desire to see him at Blantyre. They sympathised with this, and one man volunteered to take a message to this important Chief. I gave him a piece of paper (with Kumpama’s name on it)—to indicate that the messenger was from us. On our way home this man escorted us some distance. By this time the grass, which is in many places about eight feet high, was quite wet, and as the paths are narrow I had the pleasure of a cold bath for a great part of the way. This, if not so healthy, is more agreeable than intense heat. Our guide by and by discovered that his paper was wet. I suggested that it might dry. Next he asked whether the Chief would not like a bigger piece of paper! Also, he naturally wondered how much pay he would get for going to Cherasulo! Such are some of the everyday difficulties of these simple but attractive people. Having already made many efforts to see Kumpama, I was not full of hope on this occasion; but, strange to say, on Wednesday night all eyes were turned towards the Matope road to observe a long procession entering Blantyre. First, there came a man, carrying a letter; next a few bearers with a goat and several fowls; behind these came a large body of men armed, some with guns, others with bows, in the front of whom we could descry one young man holding aloft an Arab parasol. The man with the letter was rather disappointing—he had nothing but the little bit of paper of Saturday—though it was in a wonderful state of preservation; but the young man with the Arab parasol was the veritable Kumpama of Cherasulo, whose ancestor had fought against Bishop Mackenzie. According to the custom in such cases, we received the chief’s present, and gave him accommodation. He was at tea in the evening, and we found him most agreeable. He was fond, as most natives are, of the Cape gooseberry, and we took care that he should have plenty of plants. This berry grows everywhere luxuriantly, it is becoming a weed with ourselves, but the natives plant it in their fields. The chief wished to return on Thursday but was persuaded to stay till Friday. He visited the school, in which he took much interest, for in the evening he could point out the boys that could read well. He was present in the evening when Mrs Macdonald’s adult pupils came in, and I have no doubt that he would learn to read himself if he were with us. He is only about 21 years of age. On his departure, the gardener gave him orange plants, English potatoes, and other young trees, and vegetables.