20th January, 1867.—­A guide refused, so we marched without one.  The two Waiyau, who joined us at Kande’s village, now deserted.  They had been very faithful all the way, and took our part in every case.  Knowing the language well, they were extremely useful, and no one thought that they would desert, for they were free men—­their masters had been killed by the Mazitu—­and this circumstance, and their uniform good conduct, made us trust them more than we should have done any others who had been slaves.  But they left us in the forest, and heavy rain came on, which obliterated every vestige of their footsteps.  To make the loss the more galling, they took what we could least spare—­the medicine-box, which they would only throw away as soon as they came to examine their booty.  One of these deserters exchanged his load that morning with a boy called Baraka, who had charge of the medicine-box, because he was so careful.  This was done, because with the medicine-chest were packed five large cloths and all Baraka’s clothing and beads, of which he was very careful.  The Waiyau also offered to carry this burden a stage to help Baraka, while he gave his own load, in which there was no cloth, in exchange.  The forest was so dense and high, there was no chance of getting a glimpse of the fugitives, who took all the dishes, a large box of powder, the flour we had purchased dearly to help us as far as the Chambeze, the tools, two guns, and a cartridge-pouch; but the medicine-chest was the sorest loss of all!  I felt as if I had now received the sentence of death, like poor Bishop Mackenzie.

All the other goods I had divided in case of loss or desertion, but had never dreamed of losing the precious quinine and other remedies; other losses and annoyances I felt as just parts of that undercurrent of vexations which is not wanting in even the smoothest life, and certainly not worthy of being moaned over in the experience of an explorer anxious to benefit a country and people—­but this loss I feel most keenly.  Everything of this kind happens by the permission of One who watches over us with most tender care; and this may turn out for the best by taking away a source of suspicion among more superstitious, charm-dreading people further north.  I meant it as a source of benefit to my party and to the heathen.

We returned to Lisunga, and got two men off to go back to Chafunga’s village, and intercept the deserters if they went there; but it is likely that, having our supply of flour, they will give our route a wide berth and escape altogether.  It is difficult to say from the heart, “Thy will be done;” but I shall try.  These Waiyau had few advantages:  sold into slavery in early life, they were in the worst possible school for learning to be honest and honourable, they behaved well for a long time; but, having had hard and scanty fare in Lobisa, wet and misery in passing through dripping forests, hungry nights and fatiguing days, their patience must have been worn