In the afternoon we paid a visit to the young king Daudi Chwa. His palace is approached by passing through an endless number of courtyards formed by woven cane fencings ten feet high. In some of these are circular reed houses for his courtiers and servants; the last one is the royal enclosure. Three round buildings stand here, coloured grass plaitings over the entrance distinguishing them from others. In one, the audience chamber, sat the King, then aged four years. There was no furniture in the apartment; fine grass was carefully and uniformly laid on the ground, over which mats were placed on a slightly elevated reed dais. He was an important-looking little lad; his curious get-up made him appear twice his age. In spite of the great heat, a man’s European shirt fell in folds to his feet, and over this was an English greasy black morning coat, made to fit a man of abnormal proportions. Five women and two chiefs waited upon him. Not a word did he speak, but stared uninterruptedly, and when on leaving we had reached the last courtyard, I was peremptorily recalled. It was my velvet collar band he wanted to inspect. The form of native government is very highly developed and remarkable, for a tribe that had had no contact with the forms of government adopted by civilized nations. The feudal system is practically that in vogue throughout the country, which is divided up into shires or districts placed under a chief called the Saza, who has his own sub-chiefs. He has the power of settling trifling local questions, but everything of importance has to be transferred to the King. The English Government had recently levied upon the whole Protectorate a hut tax of 3 rupees yearly. This creates a new demand, and has had a salutary effect on a people whose needs are so few, and these so easily supplied, that they have had little necessity for learning the dignity of work. Tourists could easily spend some days profitably in Mengo, where there is much of real interest to be seen. I will give my few days of excursion trips, as there is no Baedeker on the subject. First day.—Grand reception by natives. Second day.—Visit to Cathedral, Schools, and Industrial Department of the Church Missionary Society, open each day from 8.0 to 4.0. Pay respects to His Majesty Daudi I., King of Uganda. Third day.—Uganda “Picture Gallery” in the Bishop’s Palace (constructed of mud and wattle). Every picture produced by the Bishop’s own brush while journeying through the country. They were so beautiful and give such a faithful idea of the country I simply longed to despatch the whole lot home.