_June 14._—Mr. Henderson and the doctor left for Cherasulo to settle about the new site. Some of the pupils here can read the native language, although they have been reading English chiefly hitherto. This time last year, none of them had seen a book. The girls are not so civilised as the Blantyre ones. Even in their games they shew this. At the station there are many soft stones, and they amuse themselves by rubbing or grinding these to make “flour”. During the process they cover their bodies with dust, which sticks to them for the rest of the day. But they say that they are willing to sew, and by and by Mrs. Macdonald will pay them a visit. The last week or two I have studied Chinyasa. It will be a very easy task to get acquainted with this language after the previous acquisition of Chiyao. What a glorious field for energy one sees from this station—right across Lake Chirwa! The lake is quite full of water now, and may be useful to us yet. To evangelize the country on its shores, would be the work of a life time. Bismark looks forward to being stationed on Lake Chirwa when he “knows more”. CHAPTER XIII. FIFTH HALF YEAR. JULY, 1880—DECEMBER, 1880. When left alone in a hut on the hill-side, one feels that domestic comforts are a great help in Mission work. The old monks must have encountered many difficulties when placed at any time among people that knew nothing of civilisation. In such circumstances they would have been obliged to leave their proper calling, and attend to their dinner, and when one’s time is so divided, neither work can be well done. I leave the commissariat entirely to the natives, and the order in which my food is brought is often somewhat peculiar. In the morning there first comes a small bowlful of milk, and then a piece of roast fowl: after a time tea appears, then potatoes, and finally a plate of porridge! At dinner too, after I have begun to flatter myself that I have got to the end of my task, the boy will appear with a large plate of soup! My cook showed considerable originality in the matter of dress. A few old cuffs had been thrown away, and when ambitious to appear in a finer costume than usual, he put one of them on his wrist, and as he wore neither coat nor shirt, nor any such thing, the cuff looked very odd upon the bare arm. I was thankful that instead of showing a similar originality in the matter of cookery, he confined himself to an old bill of fare, for although cats were very rare at Blantyre, I knew that they were plentiful at Zomba, and that the natives did not despise them as an article of food. While we were at Zomba, a war broke out at our very door. It was between Malemya our own chief, and one of his headmen called Kumtaja, whose relations have been explained above (§ 98).