The above incident was my third experience of a hippopotamus attack, and I believe that such attacks are made partly through fright. On each occasion a boat or a small canoe had passed immediately before and while the hippopotamus was trying to get away from the first vessel, the second was upon it before it was aware. Driven to desperation, and confiding in its great strength, ‘leviathan’ then charged with all its might. I found the first party at the Ruo (encamping beside the village where we had to turn back on our former journey) and told Mr. Moir’s carpenter of the necessity for his services. But it would have taken a whole day to row against the current up to the scene of the disaster. Some natives however were sent off. The rest of us stayed for the night. Chiputula the chief was here himself. A sickening smell pervaded the village. An elephant had been killed and long strips of flesh were hanging on the trees. Chiputula has a war canoe capable of containing 40 soldiers which he put at my disposal as I wanted to visit Bishop Mackenzie’s grave. Next morning Mr. Moir appeared with the boat, which bore sad traces of the prowess of the hippopotamus. The chief gave him a basin of elephant fat which was of great use in effecting a temporary repair. This afternoon we reached the territory of the dreaded Matekenya. His poor people had been driven far down by Chiputula, and villages that were flourishing when we came up were now deserted. The natives soon descried our approach, and some shouted at us to stop, but we saw no reason to listen to them. Soon there arose a great stir on the bank, and a rush was made as if to meet us farther down. About five o’clock we were warned that they would kill us, but threats of this kind were nothing new and we pressed on. To shew the least sign of alarm in such circumstances would have been a serious experiment. But the critical moment soon arrived. The natives stood in a mass with a considerable shew of guns and ordered us to come at once to the side. We were now within range of their muskets and some of our party as they afterwards confessed did not feel at all comfortable. Fortunately they did not understand all that was said else they would have been much worse. I stood up in the boat and asked ‘Why do you want us to stop? Have you anything to sell?’ The last remark was received with a grim smile but a smile all the same, and I felt that the danger was past. I then leapt out of the boat and began to talk to them. I explained that ‘I was not Anyasa at all, but Yao’. I was soon recognised as the ‘chief of Bulantaya’ (Blantyre) and they opened their hearts to me over the hardship they had suffered from Chiputula. They said that since we settled at Blantyre, Chiputula had let the Yao alone. ‘Why do the English not come down and stay to protect _us_ also? We would be your children[15]!’ Their great anxiety was to see Mr. Moir who, I told them, had been treating with their enemy. Mr. Moir had been detained