On the morning of the fifth day Mtesa came down to the point to view the causeway, and was glad to see that we were nearer by 130 yards to Ingira Island. While viewing the island, he asked me what I thought of sending a peace party over to ascertain the feeling of the Wavuma. I replied that it would be a good and wise thing in Europe, but not in Central Africa, as I feared the Wavuma would massacre the entire party. Mtesa, however, advised by the chiefs or one of the Wagwana, persisted in the idea, and a favourite page, named Webba, was about to be sent in a large canoe with fifty men to open negotiations for peace with the Wavuma, when I entreated that he would listen to me, and send a small, rotten canoe instead. He listened to me so far as to send a canoe manned with only fifteen men. As they were paddling on, unthinking and undreading danger, I cried out to Mtesa, who was about twenty yards from me, “Say farewell to Webba, for you will see little Webba no more.” The Katekiro and two or three of his chiefs smiled as if this was most absurd. I felt precisely at this moment as I felt the first time I saw a bull-fight: a cold shiver of horror crept over me. I was helpless and unable to avert the tragedy which instinct warned me would be enacted. The entire Uganda army was concentrated on the slope of Nakaranga mountain, and the eyes of the vast multitude were fastened upon this scene; and no doubt they thought as I did, that it was a moment of thrilling interest. The men of the Uganda canoe fleet were in their camps, and the canoes were all beached near them. The peace party held on its way until near Ingira, when one of them opened a conversation with the Wavuma, the result of which was an invitation to take their canoe in-shore. As they paddled the canoe gently in among the rushes that lined the island, I observed that all the Wavuma gathered together near the place where the Waganda were expected to land, and that several Wavuma canoes pushed out in order that the Waganda might have no chance of escape. We waited only a few seconds for what was about to happen. The canoe of the peace party had scarcely touched their island before we heard the shrieks of the unfortunates pealing across the water, and then the triumphant shouts of the Wavuma; and soon we saw men rushing to the point of their island nearest the causeway, and with jeers and scoffing they showed the bloody heads of the unfortunates to Mtesa, and tossed them into the lake. Mtesa rose gloomy and disconcerted, and returned to his quarters much depressed in spirits, but he gave instructions to his Katekiro to continue the work on the causeway. The Katekiro, placidly obedient, instructed two chiefs, the two chiefs instructed their Watongoleh, the Watongoleh instructed their men, and the result of these several instructions was, that about 100 men out of 150,000 were seen lounging idly on the causeway and that was all, for the novelty of the idea had now worn off.