The language spoken in Toro is Lunyoro, and quite distinct from that used in Uganda; but it is undoubtedly the parent dialect and almost identical with that spoken in the Kingdoms of Unyoro and Ankole, besides being very generally understood by the tribes beyond Ruwenzori. For the first three years, Missionary work in these districts was carried on in Luganda, as neither the European nor Baganda teachers had sufficient knowledge of Lunyoro, and there were no books or reading-sheets in the language. Luganda was understood by some of the upper class men and a few women, but it was scarcely ever spoken, and none of the peasants were acquainted with it. Until these people could have their religion and reading-books in their own tongue, it seemed as if vital Christianity must remain more or less outside their actual lives. So towards the end of 1899 Mr. Maddox went up to Toro with the intention of studying and reducing the language of the people to writing. When we arrived in 1900 a little reading-sheet had been printed, and St. Matthew’s Gospel was in hand. But there was no book or literature to help us, and as the natives did not understand one word of English it seemed a hopeless difficulty. Miss Pike, my companion, had studied Luganda for six months, so was able to speak with those who knew it, and through interpretation to those who did not. By this means she piloted us both through those first days when the house was thronged with people from morning till night, and they pelted us with kind remarks and every imaginable and unimaginable question. I never felt so absolutely stupid as when they addressed me with a torrent of eloquence, until the idea struck me of retaliating with a continuous flow of English. It pleased them immensely, but certainly did not check them. The third day after our arrival, Mr. Maddox kindly gave us our first lesson in Lunyoro. He was trying to impress on us that the words were largely formed by prefixes and suffixes, so one had only to find the stem and it was all right. “Tinkakimuherayoga” was obviously, said he, from the verb “okuhu,” to give; find that, the meaning of the word was made plain: “I have never given it to him there”! My mind was chaotic, and I wondered if it ever would be anything else. After a few weeks our patient teacher had to go off on an itinerating trip, so we were left alone to flounder through the quagmires. I believe the best and quickest way of acquiring a new tongue is to summon up all the courage you possess and go in and out among the people until you adopt it much in the same way as an infant does its mother language. Undoubtedly it requires pluck. The first time I ventured forth with a remark, peals of laughter came from my audience, which almost quenched the one spark of courage left. Afterwards I learned this was a mark of their appreciation!