Our stay at Wanigera having come to an end, we embarked once more on the little schooner and set off again. We anchored each night, for the native captain was not very certain of his bearings, and reefs were plentiful. On the third day after leaving Wanigera, however, he was either influenced by the crew or had a sudden impulse of recklessness, for after the sun had set he tried, in the uncertain light, to bring the boat into harbour on a particularly reef-bound part of the coast. There was a strong wind blowing, and the waves were slapping angrily against the sides of the vessel, when suddenly, without a moment’s warning, there was a grating shock, and we realized that we had struck a reef. It was almost dark by now, and the lights of the settlement could be seen two or three miles away. The captain let go the anchor at once, but the boat began to roll so violently that we felt doubtful as to whether the cable would stand the strain. Meanwhile the boys scrambled into the dinghy and rowed around to investigate our position. Strange though it may seem, no harm appeared to have been done to the boat, but we were so surrounded by reefs that we did not dare to move from where we were anchored. So there we pitched and rolled about all night, though the strength of the wind abated later on. What with one thing and another, I felt like a very frightened tennis-ball, and I was extremely thankful when, at sunrise, we were able to make for the shore, where we spent the day and night at the house of a friendly magistrate. [Illustration: A FISHERMAN’S HOUSE AND CANOE. [_From a Photograph._]] We were now only thirty or forty miles from our destination, and the next afternoon arrived at Ambasi. No white women had ever been there before, and for many days we were visited by parties of natives, all eager to see the strange white ladies. Women carrying their babies astride on their shoulders, old men leading little boys, and married couples, with or without their families, would pay us long visits, wanting to know what a sewing-machine was, to look at our bedrooms, and, above all, to taste our food. The nurse had her hands full soon after she arrived, for the people had great faith in her remedies, and patients presented themselves in shoals for treatment. Her pet patients appeared to be old men, who became frightfully jealous of one another if she appeared to devote more attention to one than another. They would glare fiercely at the patient who was being rubbed or otherwise treated, and were only partly mollified when their own turn came.