Gimoro had been very unfortunate in losing his children when young, and I understood that the mortality was very great among all infants from two years old to five.

I attribute this to the absurd custom of public night nurseries. According to the population of the village, there are certain houses built upon pedestals or stone supports about three feet from the ground. In the clay wall of the circular building is a round hole about a foot in diameter; this is the only aperture.

At sunset, when the children have been fed, they are put to bed in the simplest manner, by being thrust headforemost through the hole in the wall, assisted, if refractory, by a smack behind, until the night nursery shall have received the limited number. The aperture is then stopped up with a bundle of grass if the nights are cool.

The children lie together on the clay floor like a litter of young puppies, and breathe the foulest air until morning, at which time they are released from the suffocating oven, to be suddenly exposed to the chilly daybreak. Their naked little bodies shiver round a fire until the sun warms them, but the seeds of diarrhoea and dysentery have already been sown.

It may be readily imagined that accidents frequently occur in the great hunts already described, as it is quite impossible to speculate upon the species of animal that may be driven into the net. A fine little lad of about eleven years was killed by a leopard within a mile of my Fatiko station. The grass had been fired, and the animals instinctively knew that they were pursued.

The boy went to drink at a stream close to some high reeds, when a leopard pounced upon him without the slightest warning. A native who was close to the spot rushed up to the rescue, and threw his spear with such dexterity that he struck the leopard through the neck while it had the boy in its mouth, killing it upon the spot. The boy was immediately brought to me, but the lungs were lacerated, and he died during the night.

On another occasion five men were wounded (two fatally) by a lioness, which fought so gallantly that she at length escaped from her assailants with two spears in her body.

I was not present on that occasion, but I have frequently admired the pluck of the Shooli natives, who attack every animal with the simple hunting-spear, which of course necessitates a close approach.

On 30th December I went out with a few natives on the Fabbo road, simply to shoot in order to procure meat for the camp. We were about ten miles from the station, and the game was so wild on the open prairies that we found it impossible to approach within shot. We had seen great numbers of the beautiful leucotis antelope (rather larger than a fine fallow buck), also hartebeest (Antelope bubalis), all of which had quitted the clean ground which had recently been burnt, and had retired to the high grass upon a long sloping undulation.

Among our natives were two men who were the owners of the manor; they therefore proposed that we should place the guns in position, while they should march up to windward, and fire the grass in the usual manner.