defend the people entrusted to our charge. Or scenes of combat in the underwood of the tropic forest, utterly heedless of the divine beauty of tropic flowering, cool shades and merry streamlets, and absorbed only in the sanguinary necessities of the moment. I sometimes worked myself into such a pitch of exaltation that a fever came and clouded all, and caused me to babble confusedly, and the Doctor, gently shaking his head, would have to administer an opiate. Nor were these the only bugbears raised in my dazed mind. Morning after morning came the reports as usual of plots, and seditious circles of men drawing new nets of craft to gain something I knew not what, and pleasing their cruel hearts with foretelling the most ominous events. Many a rumour seemed to be afloat that the rebels were advancing with a soldiery bent on destruction, and the number of those deserting the camp by night grew greater and greater, until I had counted eighty. And then it was told me that someone was most active in disseminating falsehoods and inventions of terrible scenes of starvation wherein nothing but grass would be eaten, and that there was a grand effort to be made, because the effect of these tales was so widespread that something like a panic had seized the people. The Pasha discovered one of his men as being most industrious at this evil work, and had had him tried and convicted, and sent for a detail of men to shoot him as an example. “No detail of Zanzibaris can be sent,” I managed to whisper to Stairs. “Let the Pasha shoot his guilty man with his own people. If he needs a guard for protection, let him have the men, but we came to save life, not to destroy it.” And as his own people could not be trusted to execute such an order, the man’s life was spared. Then it was told me that one of the Lieutenant-Governor’s men had shot a friendly native through the head, because the poor fellow had not been quick enough in collecting fuel to please the hard-hearted slave. “Put him in chains,” I said, “but do not kill him. Feed him and fatten him ready for the march. He will do to carry a reserve of ammunition.” “In a few days there will be few officers left,” said Nelson. “They are all going fast, and our labour has been in vain.” “Let them go,” I replied. “If they do not wish to follow their Pasha, let them alone.” Then came a report that Rehan had taken with him twenty-two people, with several rifles belonging to us. “Ah well, Stairs, my dear fellow, pick out forty good men, march to the Nyanza. You will find the rendezvous of these fellows at the Lake Shore camp. Be very wary, and let your capture of them be sudden and thorough, and bring them back. By taking our rifles they have made themselves liable.” [Sidenote: 1889. April 17. Mazamboni’s.] On the fourth day later Lieutenant Stairs returned, having made an excellent haul of carefully guarded prisoners, among whom was Rehan, the ringleader.