Commander Cullen took me over H.M.S. _Gwendoline_, the large new gunboat that had just been launched for patrolling the lake. It is a splendid work to have accomplished, when the difficulties of transporting some of the heavy portions round the rapids are taken into consideration. I was also introduced to a budding diplomatist, who informed me with pride that he had fired a soft-nosed bullet at an elephant at one thousand yards. The elephant escaped. On December 15th I started on the voyage up the lake in the S.S. _Domira_, and at midday made Monkey Bay. It is a most beautiful little spot, and reminded me forcibly of the South Sea Islands. Bold rocky headlands plunge into the lake and enclose a white strip of sand with straggling villages at the back. The water is clear as crystal, and broken by the heads of hundreds of natives diving, swimming, and splashing about. Ringing peals of laughter echo in the rocks and startle the troops of baboons that sit watching with curious eyes the trim little steamer. Picturesque groups of natives are scattered about the beach, and the little picaninnies are playing on the skeleton of a wrecked Arab dhow, little dreaming what that dhow had meant to their fathers a few years before. In the afternoon I strolled out, hoping to get a shoot at koodoo, for which the place is famous. But the koodoo were not at home; however, I saw several impala, and shot a small buck which I believe to have been the duiker described by Sir Alfred Sharpe as a probable new species. Unfortunately, my natives devoured the skull and the rats ate the skin. It was a small, reddish-brown buck, similar in build to a klipspringer, with wiry hair and thick, high-standing hind quarters. The next wooding station was Domira Bay, and on the 17th we arrived at Kota-Kota, which used to be the headquarters of the Arab slave traffic across the lake, and the starting-point of the Arab raids towards Mweru. Mr. Swann, the collector, who has had many years’ experience of Tanganyika in the old Arab days, entertained me, and gave me two Angoni spears which had been taken in the Mpeseni trouble. There are several missionaries at Kota-Kota. They have started football, and in a rash moment I was induced to play--a freak which I regretted for many days afterwards, as it brought on a sharp attack of fever. Kota-Kota is exceedingly beautiful, as indeed is all the coast of Lake Nyassa. The hills are heavily wooded, and their bases are broken by the waves into fantastic caves and rocky promontories against which plays the white line of surf. Small rocky islands stand out here and there, and form the resting-place of myriads of cormorants.