On the 4th of June, Ibrahim and eighty-five men started for Obbo in charge of about 400 cows and 1,000 goats. Shortly after their departure, a violent thunder-storm, attended with a deluge of rain, swept over the country, and flooded the Latooka river and the various pools that formed my game-preserves. I looked forward to good duck-shooting on the morrow, as a heavy storm was certain to be followed by large arrivals. On the morning of the 5th, I was out at an early hour, and in a very short time I killed eight ducks and geese. There was a certain pool surrounded by a small marsh within half a mile of my camp, that formed the greatest attraction to the wild fowl. There were two hegleek trees in this marsh; and it was merely necessary to stand beneath the shelter of either to insure good sport, as the ducks continually arrived at the pool. I was just entering into the sport with all my heart, when I heard a shot fired in the Turks' camp, followed by loud yells, and I observed a crowd of Latookas rushing from the camp towards their town. In a few moments later, I heard the Turks' drum, and I saw people running to and fro, and the Latookas assembling from the neighbourhood with lances and shields, as though preparing for a fray. I had only two men with me, and being nearly half a mile from camp, I thought it advisable to hasten towards the spot, lest some contretemps should take place before my arrival. Accordingly I hurried over the open plain, and shortly reached my camp. I found my wife arranging the men at their posts, fearing a disturbance. They had seen me hastening towards them, and I now went to the Turks' camp, that was close by, and inquired the cause of alarm. Never was I more disgusted. Already the vultures were swooping in circles above some object outside the camp. It appeared that a native of Kayala (the town lately attacked by the Turks) had visited Tarrangolle to inquire after a missing cow. The chiefs, Moy and Commoro, brought him to the Turks' camp, merely to prove that he had no evil intention. No sooner was it announced that he was a native of Kayala than the Turks declared he was a spy, and condemned him to be shot. The two chiefs, Moy and Commoro, feeling themselves compromised by having brought the man into such danger unwittingly, threw themselves before him, and declared that no harm should befall him, as he belonged to them. Tearing them away by the combined force of many men, the prisoner was immediately bound, and led forth by his bloodthirsty murderers to death. "Shoot the spy!" was hardly pronounced, when a villain stepped forward, and placing the muzzle of his musket close to his left breast, he fired. The man dropped dead, thus murdered in cold blood. The natives rushed in crowds from the spot, naturally supposing that a general massacre would follow so unprovoked an outrage. The body was dragged by the heels a few paces outside the camp, and the vultures were its sextons within a few minutes of the death.