The scorching sun had made us very thirsty, and we worked our teapot very hard that day; the mosquitoes gave us a lively time of it, but faint, yet pursuing, we dragged on, reaching our welcome little tent at 6 p.m. But oh, what a resting place. A strong smell of stale fish pervaded the air, mingled with all the odours peculiar to African huts, where cattle, sheep, chickens and people all huddled together. We found our tent pitched in the middle of a court completely surrounded and suffocated by fishermen’s huts, for we were close to the lake shore. The only compensation for this and the mosquito discomforts was the enjoyment of tasting fresh fish once more. The lake fish somewhat resemble fresh haddocks and are of delicious flavour. On our arrival men were sent to catch them, and in half an hour they were served up steaming hot from the stewpan! Their method of fishing is primitive in the extreme. They have wicker baskets open top and bottom, which are shot down in the water; when they have enclosed a fish its kicking about is heard on the sides of the basket; then they thrust in their arms and draw out the captive. Nyagwaki, the mission station for which we were making, is situated on one of the southern points of Ruwenzori. A short, steep climb next morning brought us face to face with streams of people, who came hurrying down the mountain side to greet us and to help push us up the rougher places. When we reached the summit of the hill on which stands the village, a truly marvellous view stretched beneath. Evidently the Albert Edward Lake once extended over the miles of plain which lie to the north of it, for bare, flat islands appear here and there in the large arm of the lake that lies almost surrounded by plain. It is just as one might imagine the world looked when Noah came out of the ark with his family. At sunset the view was most impressive, the lake lay shimmering like a sea of gold, while the evening mist that gently touched the land made it appear as though it were blushing as the sun kissed good-night and disappeared behind the distant hills. A very vigorous work we found was going on here; the little mission church, with its capacity for about 200 people, was well filled, and several came to be written down for baptism. An occasional visit to these isolated stations from a European missionary does much toward encouraging the young teachers and Christians who often are subject to severe and subtle temptations to fall back into the old heathen practices by which they are surrounded. The Chief of the village, Kasami, had been brought into touch with Christianity when visiting Kabarole during a visit from Dr. Cook. There he had undergone an operation for opthalmia, and, having received “new windows,” he returned to his country to use them in learning to read.