Starting from Kabarole, we took a south-easterly direction toward Ankole, making the first halt at Isumba, a charming spot on the banks of a crater lake. There are seven more of these large volcano puddles in the immediate vicinity, lying in the heart of mountains of various altitudes. The waters are extremely picturesque with the rich tropical vegetation extending from the lip of the crater down to the water’s edge. Hippopotami plunge about in the day time, while at night they lug their heavy bodies up the steep banks and snort about from one lake to another in search of food. The country round is very beautiful and reminds one faintly of Cumberland—hills, mountains, forests, and lakes—the monkeys and ourang-outangs, however, would not allow that idea to take root; they made a fearful noise as we passed near their quarters. They were too much for our little fox terrier, who worked himself into a great rage at being unable to get at these intruders of the peace; he simply made for the next native on the road (evidently thinking him one of the same tribe), but was driven off at the point of the spear that his antagonist was carrying. The forest close to our camp was swarming with monkeys, which made wide turning movements from branch to branch when disturbed. I kept on wondering if one was not going to land on my head. The two days old baby monkeys led their big sedate mammas exhausting scampers from tree to tree. What a good thing it is that they improve in behaviour during the process of evolution! At 9.0 p.m. a message came asking me to give medicine to a sick person close to camp. Taking our lantern we went out and administered physic, then hastened home as lions could be heard roaring some distance away. The oil unfortunately gave out before we reached our tent, and I must admit to a horrid sensation of fear lest one of them should spring out upon us from the pitchy darkness, as the roaring seemed to get nearer and nearer. In the morning our cowman came in with the tidings that one of these creatures had broken through the zariba built round the cowshed and run off with one of the calves. While encamped there a terrible storm visited us in the afternoon. We had watched the clouds rapidly gathering from all directions, increasing in density and rapidity until they collided together and crashed with terrific force on a near hill, blotting out all objects from view. Then, with united energy, these heavily charged thunder clouds bore down upon us with such anger that it seemed our little tents must be torn up and twisted into shreds. All the porters had been called out to stand each at his post to meet the enemy; and right well they did it, too, for as the tent cords snapped we must have soon been houseless if the men had not held on to poles and canvas. In less than half an hour the storm had passed, and then the porters set to work, repairing ropes, hammering in pegs, and redigging the trench round the tent.