In this school we find twenty-four pupils in attendance, among them two elderly women. One of these, the mother of another Christian woman, has made a good confession. She entered school and we smiled somewhat incredulously, thinking that she was too old to learn; but our next visit to the school revealed the fact that she was making decided progress, and it seemed evident that she would soon be able to read the Gospel. After school was over, services were held and the people invited back for night meeting. We then prepared our food. During these visits to the villages the people sometimes bring a present of a chicken, a dish of peanuts, some milk, or whatever they think we might relish. Occasionally, on a hot day, it is a cup of ibwantu. This is a gruel made of the meal of native grain into which has been placed crushed root with an acid flavor. It is usually made in the evening and consumed the next day. It is not alcoholic, and has a very cooling and refreshing taste. It will be brought in a large cup, and as is their custom, the donor usually takes a sip first to show there is no poison in it. When this village was moved and divided into three parts, we about gave up the thought of opening school again, but the chief was not satisfied, and promised that if school was reopened he would see that the children came together to learn; so we agreed to send a teacher. Six very nice young girls came from Kabwe to stay at Macha and attend school; but others entered to fill up the ranks and the work continues. Early the next morning we start on our homeward way. The road takes us back past Kabanzi, and there we turn south toward Macha. On the way we come to a place which at first sight might be taken for an old deserted native village; but a closer inspection reveals the fact that the huts were never finished. Here is the framework of twelve large, nice-looking huts. Some have just been rightly started; of some the walls are finished, and on others the builders had begun to put on the roof. Poles are scattered all around, and some poles are at a distance from the huts, but near the road, and look as if those who were carrying them had dropped them hastily. The whole has the appearance as if a number of people were busily engaged in building a village and were surprised by an enemy in the midst of their labors and slain, their work unfinished. What does it mean? This question we asked ourselves on first seeing it. The answer was this: They were indeed surprised by an enemy, but that enemy was death. The headman sickened and died; his son followed. Concluding that the place was bewitched, the rest at once abandoned it and went elsewhere, leaving all those fine, straight poles to rot.