On the morning of September 5th we reluctantly turned our backs on the elusive Lorian, and retraced our steps. Nothing of interest occurred on the return journey beyond the usual weary marches over the desolate country already described, punctuated at intervals with a rhino charge or a hunt for meat. I remember one rhinoceros which amused us very much. We were making our way across a belt of bush which somehow managed to draw sustenance from the sand, when the familiar but subdued shout of “Faru” caused us to glance hurriedly round. Facing us ten yards away a large rhinoceros was stamping and snorting. In a few seconds he made up his mind to investigate, and charged down upon us. Something impelled George to place his fingers in his mouth and send forth a shrill ear-piercing whistle. The charging rhinoceros stopped suddenly in mid-career, so suddenly, indeed, that he almost sat on his hind quarters. Such a look of porcine surprise came over its ugly features that we involuntarily burst out into a roar of laughter, which apparently completed the ungainly brute’s discomfiture, as it turned and galloped away with every symptom of fear. We also shot every crocodile we could get at on the return journey, as a set-off against the loss of our lamented pup, but it failed to afford us any satisfaction. On the fifth day after we started on our return journey we arrived half-starved and footsore at our Rendili camp. In the light of this experience I can quite believe that the Rendili were right when they asserted that they could reach Lorian in two days, always supposing Lorian to be in the position roughly assigned to it, viz. read 1° 5’ 0” N. lat. and 30° 30’ 0” E. long. A native perfectly acquainted with the country would abandon the Waso Nyiro altogether, and cut across the big curve which the river makes to the north and south-east, and travelling across the desert in a direction east-north-east from the Zambo Plateau, he would only have a fifty-mile march before him—by no means a difficult matter for a native, as he would only require to make two marches of twenty-five miles each in forty-eight hours. If I ever make another trip down the Waso Nyiro I shall certainly adopt that plan myself. The moment we reached camp we ordered a sheep to be killed, and when it was cooked the three of us sat down and finished it. We were very hungry, and it was only a small sheep. While we were satisfying our material wants, we summoned Jumbi that he might give an account of his stewardship. It appeared that he had bought a couple of hundred sheep in our absence. The Somalis under Ismail Robli had moved their camp one march up the river, following the Rendili and Burkeneji, who were moving their villages up-stream, the adjacent pasture being finished. There was a recrudescence of small-pox among the Rendili, and many were dying daily. Such was the news.