_Monday, 21._—Kapeni’s children came and attended school. We consider this one of the most important gains that have been made by the Mission. We had long had all the children of the Magololo chiefs with us, but their presence did not make the Mission school popular among our neighbours. The Yao had given us the land and had made us welcome to settle, and now we had nearly a third of our pupils from chiefs who were hostile to them and who might be plotting to come up and ‘take away their country’. Hence they were slow in sending their children to school. Ever since my arrival I had been asking Kapeni about pupils whom he promised me. “Don’t be in a hurry about that,” Dr. Laws would say, “the day will yet come”: and now more than a dozen children were sent over. They stipulated that they must be allowed to stay with Mrs. Macdonald’s boys and that the Magololo boys should not be allowed to interfere with them. Mrs. Macdonald took the main charge of teaching them to read, and out of school hours they were supplied with cards and studied most diligently by themselves. On Friday night they returned to Kapeni’s but appeared in full force on Monday morning and brought a few of their companions besides. They soon made themselves at home on the Station. When any stranger called at our house, they generally introduced him and as they knew all the people in the district better than our Blantyre friends did, they were useful in this way. It was seldom that their royal blood got them into trouble. But on one occasion they all attacked a boy that ventured to speak of their father Kapeni as “an old man”. Another time they had to be restrained from an assault on a lad that had spoken to them in the Chinyasa language. They demanded to be treated as Yao! They pressed me to visit their home on Saturdays. One day that I went they asked me to go up the mountain (Sochi) to shoot baboons, which greatly destroy the crops. Kapeni’s oldest son also came and we had the appearance of being a hunting party! I wounded a baboon, and the boys gave it chase and soon secured it. I suggested that they should leave it behind till we found more. But African hunters don’t care to let their “meat” out of sight, and in a few minutes they bored holes in the baboon’s legs through which they put cords of bark, and then two boys were told off to carry it on a pole. The carcase was borne faithfully, sometimes up the steep mountain side, for about two hours. When we were going back I remarked that it might be taken on to the village, but none of them liked the idea of eating it “on the village green,” which would mean that every villager would have a right to share it with them (67.) On reaching the fields they lighted a fire and prepared to enjoy their feast. I was expected to claim a large share of the “meat” as having shot the baboon, and when I waived my claim they were much astonished—some were deeply disappointed that ‘father would not take his meat’. But