for the English Queen. But he thinks bad will come if any white people are killed. He is so afraid the Germans will think he joined with the other Arabs that I now tell you all this, though every day I have a splitting headache. I really began this letter a week ago. I write a little every day, and now I think Ali will be able to get it sent through to the coast, to Mvita, perhaps. The other letter—an exercise book tied up—is for Mrs. John Baines. I don’t think any one ought to see it but herself. So please put it into an envelope and address it to her "To await arrival at Unguja." She started off for the Mvita coast with Captain Brentham a month ago. What’s happened to her I don’t know. I sent messengers to tell her her husband was dead. I saw Mrs. Stott here last July when Mrs. John Baines had her premature confinement. Since then I only know that their station at Burungi was destroyed, but they got away safely somewhere else, where the Consul and Mrs. Baines afterwards found them. Yours in the love of Jesus, ANN ANDERSON. P.S. I ought perhaps to be more business-like, in spite of feeling so ill, in case there is any trouble about wills and say that their names were _Thomas Aldrich Bayley_ and _John Baines_ and that they died as near as I can reckon on October 29th, 1888. I haven’t found any wills, but I am trying to get their effects together, though of course there is great confusion after the looting. I’ve also written a note for old Mrs. Bayley. _From Mrs. Anderson, E.A.M., to Mrs. John Baines, c/o Mr. Callaway, Agent, East African Mission, Unguja._ Mbogo’s Village, Ulunga, _November_, 1888. DEAR LUCY,— I am beginning to write this as near as I can guess November 15, but I’ve got out in my dates and no wonder. I’ve also got a broken head—I expect a touch of concussion besides a scalp wound—and it is simple agony to write for long. My eyes hurt so. I must however try to tell you—and John’s mother—what has happened, so I shall write a little every day if I am fit to and send these letters to the coast by the first chance. Ali bin Ferhani thinks he can manage a messenger later on who would cross into the British "sphere." I expect you got my first message sent by the Masai? In case you didn’t or in case something happens to me and I can’t finish a long letter, I’ll tell you the plain facts first: _John’s dead, Bayley’s dead, Josiah’s dead_. Anderson and I are wounded. I’m nearly well. The station is only partially destroyed. Now you know the worst.