That day there had been a great trial at Mkanda’s. The particulars of the case were these. Across the stream from Blantyre, a few minutes’ walk from the Station is a native village under a chief called Mkao. Two sheep-stealers from Mkanda’s region came and carried off one of Mkao’s goats. But they were pursued by terrible avengers. A native described to me with great delight the fate that overtook them. When they were about six miles from Mkao’s village they stopped in order to dine. They lighted a fire and prepared to feast on the goat. As they were thus engaged, Mkao’s men overtook them, and killed one of them on the spot. He was “divided into pieces, and the parts of his body were mingled with those of the goat”. The other thief escaped for a little, but his pursuers, according to my informer, chased him round till he was down on the plain opposite Ndilande, and then killed him “and hung up his body on a tree”. Mkao himself had told me about the matter, but he left the impression that he had killed only one thief, and that he wanted more vengeance. The case happened to come up for consideration at Mkanda’s just now. When we were on the top of the hill, guns were fired at the village to signify that the complaint had been dismissed (kususa). On our return we heard that the Chief had told the friends of the thieves that they ought not to have stolen so near the English! Indeed, on our arrival, Mkao had been introduced to me as a Headman belonging to Blantyre, and he called us his Fathers, but, although he constantly came to visit, we never heard much about the civil government of this “son,” except once that a herd boy allowed some of our cattle to eat his corn, when Mkao’s people gave him a severe beating, and broke his arm. Mkanda was very friendly, and expressed a desire to have a Mission planted among his people, in order that his children might learn to read, and that his people might get work. As we might expect, these Africans, at first, value Mission settlements chiefly for the employment that is given, and the calico that is paid: “We want something to wear,” is the general cry. The Mission, they think, must first clothe the naked.