have been vanquished. Touch them not, but prove yourselves worthy the friendship of such a handful of brave men, and do yourselves honour by entertaining them, rather than degrade yourselves by the continuance of your insults.’ “This address seemed to have a beneficial effect with the majority. The old man motioning two or three of them out of the way, seated himself near me and endeavoured to converse with me, but failing, he called the interpreter. His first wish was to examine my rifle: removing the cap, I handed it to him. Long and silent was his examination, the most inexplicable part seeming the muzzle, which, instead of being pointed, had a hole in it. Placing his finger therein, he looked at me with the greatest astonishment, and to give him a practical explanation, I seized a fowlingpiece from the hands of my favourite hunter, and pointing to a vulture hovering over us, I fired: and before it touched the ground, the crowd were prostrate and grovelling in the dust, as if every man of them had been shot. The old man’s head, with his hands on his ears, was at my feet; and when I raised him his appearance was ghastly and his eyes were fixed on me with a meaningless expression. I thought he had lost his senses. After shaking him several times I at length succeeded in attracting his attention to the fallen bird quivering in its last agonies between two of his men. The first signs of returning animation he gave was, putting his hand to his head, and examining himself as if in search of a wound. He gradually recovered; and as soon as he could regain his voice, called to the crowd, who one after the other first raised their heads, and then again dropped them, at the sight of their apparently lifeless comrades. After the repeated call of the old man, they ventured to rise, and a general inspection of imaginary wounds commenced. I attempted to carry on a conversation with the old man, whose name was Murmangae, and learnt that the chief’s name was Dimoo, and that he had but lately succeeded his deceased father in the chieftainship. Gaining confidence, he again reverted to our arms, which, however, he expressed a fear of touching, and requested to know how the noise was produced; and whilst I was endeavouring to explain the gun to him, the chief, accompanied by numerous followers, arrived. To my disappointment, however, he treated us with great mistrust, and drawing up his men seemed inclined to attack us, on which a lengthened conversation between the old man and himself took place. At this stage of the proceedings, a single elephant was seen approaching the village. The chief, who had been standing, advanced towards me, and, pointing to the elephant, abruptly asked if our thunder could kill that. On my replying in the affirmative, ‘Do it,’ he said, ‘and I will respect you.’ The aspect of affairs had now assumed anything but a peaceful appearance; but relying upon my own resources and diplomacy,