In spite of the weariness that often overcomes one travelling day after day under such a fierce sun, how glad I am that the railway had left us 300 miles of tramping before we reached the lake! Those who come up country now the railroad is completed will never experience the fondness, and shall I call it proprietorship, that one seems to feel for the land when each step has involved labour, every little change from the prairie grass and thorn bushes been noticed and welcomed, and each new district and tribe prayed and longed over to be claimed for Christ. How can I describe the scene that stretched before me as I stood on the Nandi plateau overlooking the tranquil silver lake, the Victoria Nyanza, lying 3,000ft. below. The sun was slowly sinking towards the west, and, as it did so, drew the attention to the other side, our land of promise, Uganda. As the distant horizon and sky were flooded with a gentle red and golden light, salvation and victory seemed written in the handwriting of God upon the walls of that country. Turning round towards camp what a contrast the scene presented. Hundreds of natives had congregated together dressed in animals’ skins, and armed with shields and spears, which they were flourishing in the air with wild dancing and shrill war song—they were going out to fight with a neighbouring tribe. In the morning I had had an undesirable encounter with some of them. Having taken my writing case and pocket Bible to a hill a short distance away from where we were encamped to get a view of the wonderful panorama of plain and lake beneath, I had been somewhat startled by a number of men suddenly appearing from what at first were quite undistinguishable grass huts. Void of clothing they had painted their bodies with bright red earth, and had made various designs with grease on their limbs. Their hair was long and twisted into streaks by means of goat’s fat, and each man carried a spear and shield. Soon a small crowd had gathered round, and I must confess to a certain feeling of uneasiness at the isolation of my position. However, I determined to evince no fear and tried to make the best of it. I undid my writing-case and showed it to them, and my watch. They literally shrieked with delight and surprise when they saw the hands run round. The gilt edges of my Bible attracted them, so handling it reverently I tried to tell them it was God’s Book, and drawing one of the children to me by signs, sought to convey to their minds that God loved us. I do not know if they caught my meaning, but I do know that God caught up the prayers that ascended for them. [Illustration: A NANDI FAMILY. _Photo by W. D. Young, Mombasa._] The same evening a violent storm broke over us. One of our tents was literally washed out, not having had a deep ditch digged round in case of emergency.