When at last, after many failures, we had got the rope across, it was not of much assistance, as the water was too deep for the porters, and the animals would not face it alone on any consideration. Another circumstance which added to our difficulties was there being only one landing-place on the opposite bank, a little gully about four feet wide in the steep bank, made by the hippopotamus who formerly came ashore here to feed, and afterwards widened by natives using the ford. If by mischance anybody had been swept past this landing-place they would almost certainly have been drowned, as there was no other place to land for a long way down the river. Failing a bridge, our chances of getting across the Tana for another month were very slender, and as I was anxious to reach Mr. Hall’s station at M’biri in order to get a few newspapers, some tobacco, and provisions, I sent word to the chief’s son, Koranja, that I required a couple of guides. These he had great difficulty in procuring, the natives declaring that it was impossible to cross the river. However, on the promise of a heavy reward of cloth, I prevailed upon two of the Maranga natives to accompany me. We three then swam the Tana together, with my clothing done up in small bundles on our heads. I was unable to get my rifle across, so I went without it. Once on the other side, I dressed as speedily as possible, and we set off at a good pace for M’biri. We reached the Marathwa, another fair-sized river, an hour later, which necessitated stripping again. The crossing safely accomplished we resumed our apparel, and set off once more, reaching the station at midday, after a couple of hours’ rough tramp over the hills. Mr. and Mrs. Hall were away shooting for a day or two, but Captain Longfield, who was in charge of the troops, made me very welcome. He invited me to stay with him until Mr. Hall’s return, an invitation I gladly accepted. I sent the two guides back to the camp with a supply of newspapers and provisions, and then sat down with Captain Longfield to one of the most satisfactory luncheons I have ever enjoyed. It was such a pleasing change to eat once more from earthenware plates, with a real white tablecloth and glass tumblers on the table, and a properly furnished cruet-stand. It is only after one has been separated for a time from the minor conveniences of civilization that one discovers how much they contribute to one’s comfort. One of the most peculiar effects of our late experiences was noticeable when I retired to rest that night. It was the new and strange sense of security. It seemed so utterly unbelievable that I could go to sleep and sleep as soundly as I liked, without fear of being rudely disturbed by hostile natives, or by prowling beasts of prey. It was positively difficult to realize at first.