The knowledge that our two travelling friends must return had come to us on my birthday, and a new weight seemed added to my quarter of a century of life. They had been like brother and sister to me ever since leaving England, and now it was like going away from everything that connected one with the old land. Then I turned to my Bible, and Psalm 22 was the birthday portion—“The Kingdom is the Lord’s” stood out as written in gold. I could never get beyond God’s country, God’s territory. It brought such peace, comfort, protection. No longer was it one person almost alone in a big strange land, but a child of a King who reigneth in Africa as in England, and never sends without Himself going, too. The doctor left at 12.0 p.m. on April 30th to get ready the camp for the Lloyds, and at 4.0 p.m. we fixed the invalid up in the hammock and left the Fort with them. It was a sad and silent procession, and a talk with Mr. Lloyd showed us how bitter was the disappointment to them both. At sunset we stood and wished them good-bye, and it just needed all the strength we could command to keep back the hot tears that wanted to fall with those that shook the poor little patient. Neither of us could speak as Miss Pike and I returned to the desolate Fort. Already two of our companions has been obliged to turn back, and we two girls were left to go on with a missionary who had come out to escort us to Toro. At midnight my companion was seized with violent sickness and slight temperature. Donning slippers and enveloping myself in a blanket, I ran out across the Fort to rouse one of the boys for hot water. It was awfully uncanny. The starlit sky was entirely shut out by angry clouds, and the darkness was intolerable. Only the shrill shriek of the hyenas broke the stillness, and I half expected the faint light from my candle lamp to fall upon a leopard or reptile. After two days, however, she so far recovered as to be able in a hammock to take up the journey once more. I am quite sure Heber had never visited Uganda when he wrote:— “Where Afric’s sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand.” If he had done so it might have run:— “Where Afric’s swamps and mountains Meet one on every hand.”