8th August, 1871.—­They would come to no parley.  They knew their advantage, and the wrongs they had suffered from Bin Juma and Mohamad’s men when they threw down the ivory in the forest.  In passing along the narrow path with a wall of dense vegetation touching each hand, we came to a point where an ambush had been placed, and trees cut down to obstruct us while they speared us; but for some reason it was abandoned.  Nothing could be detected; but by stooping down to the earth and peering up towards the sun, a dark shade could sometimes be seen:  this was an infuriated savage, and a slight rustle in the dense vegetation meant a spear.  A large spear from my right lunged past and almost grazed my back, and stuck firmly into the soil.  The two men from whom it came appeared in an opening in the forest only ten yards off and bolted, one looking back over his shoulder as he ran.  As they are expert with the spear I don’t know how it missed, except that he was too sure of his aim and the good hand of God was upon me.

I was behind the main body, and all were allowed to pass till I, the leader, who was believed to be Mohamad Bogharib, or Kolokolo himself, came up to the point where they lay.  A red jacket they had formerly seen me wearing was proof to them, that I was the same that sent Bin Juma to kill five of their men, capture eleven women and children, and twenty-five goats.  Another spear was thrown at me by an unseen assailant, and it missed me by about a foot in front.  Guns were fired into the dense mass of forest, but with no effect, for nothing could be seen; but we heard the men jeering and denouncing us close by:  two of our party were slain.

Coming to a part of the forest cleared for cultivation I noticed a gigantic tree, made still taller by growing on an ant-hill 20 feet high; it had fire applied near its roots, I heard a crack which told that the fire had done its work, but felt no alarm till I saw it come straight towards me:  I ran a few paces back, and down it came to the ground one yard behind me, and breaking into several lengths, it covered me with a cloud of dust.  Had the branches not previously been rotted off, I could scarcely have escaped.

Three times in one day was I delivered from impending death.

My attendants, who were scattered in all directions, came running back to me, calling out, “Peace! peace! you will finish all your work in spite of these people, and in spite of everything.”  Like them, I took it as an omen of good success to crown me yet, thanks to the “Almighty Preserver of men.”

We had five hours of running the gauntlet, waylaid by spearmen, who all felt that if they killed me they would be revenging the death of relations.  From each hole in the tangled mass we looked for a spear; and each moment expected to hear the rustle which told of deadly weapons hurled at us.  I became weary with the constant strain of danger, and—­as, I suppose, happens with soldiers on the field of battle—­not courageous, but perfectly indifferent whether I were killed or not.