The men began to look about for huts in which to deposit their things, when the same drunken fellow drew a bow and fired at Muanyasere.  The man called out to the others to seize him, which was done in an instant.  A loud cry now burst forth that the chief’s son was in danger, and one of the people, hurling a spear, wounded Sabouri slightly in the thigh:  this was the signal for a general scrimmage.

Chawende’s men fled from the town; the drums beat the assembly in all directions, and an immense number flocked to the spot from the two neighbouring villages, armed with their bows, arrows, and spears.  An assault instantly began from the outside.  N’chise was shot with an arrow in the shoulder through the palisade, and N’taru in the finger.  Things were becoming desperate.  Putting the body of Dr. Livingstone and all their goods and chattels in one hut, they charged out of the town, and fired on the assailants, killing two and wounding several others.  Fearing that they would only gather together in the other remaining villages and renew the attack at night, the men carried these quickly one by one and subsequently burnt six others which were built on the same side of the river, then crossing over, they fired on the canoes which were speeding towards the deep water of Bangweolo, through the channel of the Lopupussi, with disastrous results to the fugitive people.

Returning to the town, all was made safe for the night.  By the fortunes of war, sheep, goats, fowls, and an immense quantity of food fell into their hands; and they remained for a week to recruit.  Once or twice they found men approaching at night to throw fire on the roofs of the huts from outside, but with this exception they were not interfered with.  On the last day but one a man approached and called to them at the top of his voice not to set fire to the chief’s town (it was his that they occupied); for the bad son had brought all this upon them; he added that the old man had been overruled, and they were sorry enough for his bad conduct.

Listening to the account given of this occurrence, one cannot but lament the loss of life and the whole circumstances of the fight.  Whilst on the one hand we may imagine that the loss of a cool, conciliatory, brave leader was here felt in a grave degree, we must also see that it was known far and wide that this very loss was now a great weakness to his followers.  There is no surer sign of mischief in Africa than these trumpery charges of bewitching houses by placing things on them:  some such over-strained accusation is generally set in the front rank when other difficulties are to come:  drunkenness is pretty much the same thing in all parts of the world, and gathers misery around it as easily in an African village as in an English city.  Had the cortege submitted to extortion and insult, they felt that their night by the river would have been a precarious one—­even if they had been in a humour to sleep in a swamp when