“This must be a comparatively healthy spot, even in the most unhealthy time, as it overlooks the flat wet country around it, and the water will run from it. There appeared to me to be much more watery land, and more pools of water, about Daka than here. It is where so much land lies under water that, about the end of the rainy season, the fever is so bad. People may get it almost any time, but February, March, and April seem to be the worst months. I think Baines is said to have stated that he would rather be on the Zambesi in January, the height of the rainy season, than in May, a lovely month, but when the moisture is perhaps not all dried up. When it is dried up, it is then all right. Another thing seems to be, that people moving about are better off than those who have to remain stationary in one place. “One of my goats was reported to have been killed by a leopard on Christmas Eve. We all went with our guns, and I took my dogs. We found the unfortunate goat lying dead, a live companion standing over it; and, also standing over it, and facing the live goat, an animal I thought was a dog. They told me it was the leopard, but I would not fire, still thinking it a dog. At last, however, I saw what it was, and we shot it. Two others ran away, and my dogs killed both of them gallantly, and in next to no time. They were cheetahs, a sort of leopard, very lanky, and a good deal like greyhounds in appearance. They were very thin, and probably very hungry when they killed the goat; but the other goat must have kept them from eating it, as it had been killed a considerable time when we got to it. “I must now get up and make ready to start. I am writing in the tent, having had a cup of coffee as usual, but not got up yet. I intended to have written this letter last night, and, having failed to do so, thought it best to make sure of its being written before I began anything else. “I hope you are all spending a pleasant Christmas and New Year’s time at home, or wherever you are; and wish every one a very happy New Year.” Starting upon their journey late that evening, the Journal resumes the narrative:--