But the pony by no means entered into the spirit of what was intended. He jumped about and swung round, never giving chance of a foot being placed in the stirrup. At last the doki boys had to hold his head firmly, and a moment afterwards I was up and they let go to give a clear course. Instead of starting off like a flash, as I expected, he not merely reared but threw himself backward, his full length on the ground. Taken unawares, I was not in time to check the movement and fell sideways, as fortunately only the extreme end of the boots were in the stirrups. To add injury to insult he attempted to roll on me—I had by chance fallen a little too widely—and then he jumped up and made off madly. This part of the programme I heard of afterwards, as the fall stunned me. A thick, pith helmet—the gift of a friend in London—had been providentially strapped under the chin, and therefore remaining in position had thus prevented my cranium coming into direct contact with the stony ground. Had it, the more or less valuable contents thereof would probably have been deranged by concussion of the brain or some similar pleasantry. When after a minute or so of unconsciousness I came to, the delinquent was being held near by. He did not appear to be the least ashamed of his handiwork. At first I could not get up and assumed some bone had been broken, especially as assistance to rise gave such pain that I asked to be left. Presently I was able unhelped to change from the horizontal to the perpendicular position and at once proceeded to take stock by feeling the ribs and shoulder-blade for fracture. All were intact. Then about the mail, for I was taking to the post things written for the _African World Annual_ and this was the latest day for forwarding them. The sport of a further try with the Pagan pony involved too great a risk of missing the mail, so I had another horse, which I had on hire, brought out, saddled and reached the post office just before the bags were closed. Next day it was clear I had been hurt more than I thought. The pain in the side had increased and any movement such as sneezing caused the agony as of internal knives cutting. The following day the signs having intensified, with added pain when in the prone position, I made an appointment to see Dr Costello, the Government medical officer. He promptly diagnosed the symptoms as contusion of the muscles. I was not able to ride and he, with the usual care given to each individual case, offered the use of his own hammock for the trek. That is a mode of progression few use if they can avoid. With a squad of bearers not trained to work together, the discomfort on a journey of length has to be experienced to be realised. Moreover, lying down was bad enough in bed; in a jolting hammock it would be impossible.