“I think I told you in my last, that we were annoyed with some pilfering, but had not been able to bring the petty thefts home to any one. Recently, however, we have found that the thieves do not belong to our Africans, but to another tribe, namely, to Makukani’s people. Had we the benefits of a good Glasgow reporter, your attention might be arrested by some such heading as, ‘Daring, Exciting Chase, and Clever Capture’. The story is as follows:—On the morning of the 13th February last, about four o’clock, both Mapas and William Koyi were awakened by attempts being made to pull the blankets off them. Mapas recognising at once the position of affairs, waited for the arm being put in again at the window—nor had he long to wait; but in the darkness he failed to secure the arm, and only alarmed the thieves, who made off with the booty already secured, and well packed in two large bundles. Mapas instantly roused the others in that house—there are now eight houses—and gave chase. Koyi who waited to put on some clothes, saw another man coming from the line of the stores, where our white men, Walker and Fenwick, sleep. The thieves, observing that some one was approaching, threw down the bundles and ran. Koyi, being armed, threatened to fire on them if they did not stop, but on hearing this the thieves plunged into the bush and were lost to sight. William Koyi, being a man who can endure a great deal of comfort, now gave up the pursuit; but brave Mapas and Kumlomba, the headman of the village, who had been roused by the noise, knowing the thieves would try to strike the road at another point, pushed on to anticipate them, and were just in time to meet them face to face. On being challenged they again plunged into the bush, whereupon Mapas fired. The report of the gun brought us all to that point, and I, having posted sentinels at several points, led a small party into the bush for the purpose of scouring it thoroughly, but we came upon no man. In the meantime, Mapas had come upon the trail of one man, and had pursued him for a space of eight miles, and that, too, in his shirt and bare feet, through tall, wet grass and stumps. It was, indeed an exciting chase, the thief ran for dear life, Mapas for the glory of victory, and the good of our Colony. You will say he deserved to win, and he did win, and bring back the thief a prisoner. We are Britons, and we are fond of British pluck, but in what is this man’s blood and spirit inferior to our own? And surely there is good hope of the race which can furnish such men. The thief, when brought back, was called into ‘Court,’ got a trial, in which, according to the phraseology of Scotch forms, he emitted, admitted former thefts, and implicated his chief in a charge of reset and participation. This, in all probability was a false charge, and made in order to throw the shield of his chief’s protection over himself. I hope this part of his story is not true. In the afternoon, however, he was sentenced to get nine