Marched on Monday for Masai Kraal, hoping there to intercept the enemy’s retreat from Moschi. Reached Ngombe about 11 a.m. A number of houses were still inhabited, by Goanese and Greeks, and they had white flags erected to protect themselves from attack. The small river Kware flowed through the village. Transport and considerable artillery were left behind here, while the column continued eastward on the low road or, more properly, track, to Moschi. The bush is now becoming more luxuriantly tropical in country that is apparently well watered. Marched until 2 a.m. in the dark, through rain, and over a track narrow and unused. On camping everyone was so done up that fires were allowed for warmth, and to make tea. Few of us could sleep, we were so very wet, and the remainder of the night was spent cowering over our fires in poor endeavour to keep some circulation alive in our numbed bodies. Marched about fifteen miles to-day. [Sidenote: THE ENEMY FLEE] The following day, in the early morning, our course was changed, and the column marched direct for Moschi, news having been received that the town had been evacuated and was occupied by South African forces from the eastern column. During the march our column forded four rivers in the course of the day—the Kikafu, the Weruweru, the Kiladera, and the Garanga. It is slow, patience-trying work transporting animals and wagons through such river-drifts; not one or two heavily burdened mules, not one or two wagons, had to be coaxed down steep banks, and across the ford, and up the opposite bank, but the endless number of an entire column. However, in the end the last river was passed, and we marched into Moschi just after dark, a weary and footsore column; both man and beast thoroughly done up. Torrential rain fell all night, and all were very thankful for the shelter of the various buildings and barns into which we were crowded. But even then our sleep was a broken one, lying on the cold hard floor, or on the ground, without blanket covering. For the past three days we have been without our kits or blankets, only our bare rations having been transported with us in our haste onwards. Moschi—which is the Swahili for “smoke,” and which aptly refers to the mists daily hanging over Kilimanjaro mountain-top—had been captured without any resistance, though it had been thought that the enemy would make a long stand there. It proved an extensive, well-built town, nestling in the pleasant and picturesque surroundings of the Kilimanjaro foothills. A mile or so above the new town were the old fort and residences of Old Moschi. Coffee and rubber were extensively grown in the district, and well-developed plantations abounded in the neighbourhood of the town. There was a large civil population left in the town at the time of occupation, principally natives, Goanese, and Greeks.