After a few happy days spent in Ankole, we pushed on in a south-easterly direction to Koki. Scarcity of water necessitated rather longer marches than usual, so I indulged in the luxury of a hammock. Six men were taken on as carriers who did not understand the art in the least. They literally galloped away with me. The hammock swung to and fro with such force that the ropes on the pole gradually slackened, and the canvas hung like a sling with its burden doubled up inside. My gesticulations and calls were quite unavailing, as the carriers ran on, singing gaily; then they suddenly hauled the pole over from one shoulder to another, which was more than it could stand, and, with a squeak of pain, the ropes burst, and the hammock fell with a big bump to the ground. While I stood endeavouring to recover from the rather boisterous mode of travelling, the carriers walked round inspecting the shattered ropes and congratulated each other on being such men of strength! We had reached a wide, scorching plain with no trees or shelter save a few tall thorn bushes, which made the ground all about like a pincushion with the points standing out. We had come along at such a rate that the caravan _and_ lunch basket were miles behind. One hundred and five minutes were spent under that thorn bush waiting for the rear with nothing to read, nothing to look at, and nothing to eat. I tried to think a thought that might find a niche in my next journal letter, but the sun must have nearly melted all the brain cells as it poured down its burning rays, for nothing took shape. To punish the men for their rash behaviour I inflicted on my carriers the punishment of searching for firewood, so that when our detached corps joined us we soon had the kettle singing and a chicken frizzling to replenish exhausted strength and revive our fainting spirits. The following morning camp was awake at 4.0 a.m., and a hurried start was made in the dark so as to get the day’s march over before the sun had a chance of treating us as it had done previously. But it was rather an unfortunate day to have tried the experiment, as our path for the first three or four miles skirted a long swamp, the haunt of mosquitoes, and these little pests had not been frightened away by sunrise before we ventured through their domain. They swarmed round us like locusts, and although we kept furiously beating out at them in all directions at once, the prodigious application of Homocea afterwards was, for the first time in my experience, ineffectual in allaying the inflammation and irritation. We spied a few monkeys in the trees, but instead of being up to their usual pranks they solemnly sat staring at each other, looking deplorably sorry for themselves; evidently the mosquitoes had proved too much even for them. I am sure they would have been willing to pay a pied piper any fee.