"Having but a scanty supply of wood to keep up a fire, one man crept among the bushes on one side of the pool, while I proceeded for the same purpose on the other side. I had not gone far, when looking upward to the edge of the small basin, I discerned between me and the sky four animals, whose attention appeared to be directed to me by the noise I made in breaking a dry stick. On closer inspection I found that the large round, hairy-headed visitors were lions, and retreated on my hands and feet towards the other side of the pool, when coming to my waggon-driver, I found him looking with no little alarm in an opposite direction, and with good reason, as no fewer than two lions with a cub were eyeing us both, apparently as uncertain about us as we were distrustful of them. We thankfully decamped to the waggon and sat down to keep alive our scanty fire, while we listened to the lion tearing and devouring his prey. When any of the other hungry lions dared to approach he would pursue them for some paces with a horrible howl, which made our poor oxen tremble, and produced anything but agreeable sensations to ourselves. We had reason for alarm, lest any of the six lions we saw, fearless of our small fire, might rush in among us." [Illustration: BAROLONG WOMEN.] From these dangers Moffat was mercifully preserved and after journeying for six days he reached the village of a young chief named Bogachu. At this place, and at one about twenty miles distant, he lived a semi-savage life for ten weeks. To use a common expression he "made himself at home" among them. They were kind and appeared delighted with his company, especially as when food run scarce, he could take his gun and shoot a rhinoceros or some other animal, when a night of feasting and talking would follow. Every opportunity was embraced by the missionary of imparting Christian instruction to these people; their supreme idea of happiness, however, seemed able to rise no higher than having plenty of meat. Asking a man, who seemed more grave than the rest, what was the finest sight he could desire, he replied, "A great fire covered with pots full of meat," adding, "How ugly the fire looks without a pot" The object of the journey was fully gained; henceforth Robert Moffat needed no interpreter; he could now speak and preach to the people in their own tongue. He found all well on reaching home and prepared to settle down with a feeling of ability to the work of translation.