teal from men who possessed a medicine so powerful. The
half-caste, who kept Shupanga-house, said he wished to have some to give
to the Zulus, of whom he was mortally afraid, and to whom he had to pay
an unwilling tribute.

The "Pioneer" made several trips to the Kongone, and returned with the
last load on the 12th of June. On the 23rd the "Lady Nyassa" was safely
launched, the work of putting her together having been interrupted by
fever and dysentery, and many other causes which it would only weary the
reader to narrate in detail. Natives from all parts of the country came
to see the launch, most of them quite certain that, being made of iron,
she must go to the bottom as soon as she entered the water. Earnest
discussions had taken place among them with regard to the propriety of
using iron for ship-building. The majority affirmed that it would never
answer. They said, "If we put a hoe into the water, or the smallest bit
of iron, it sinks immediately. How then can such a mass of iron float?
it must go to the bottom." The minority answered that this might be true
with them, but white men had medicine for everything. "They could even
make a woman, all except the speaking; look at that one on the figure-
head of the vessel." The unbelievers were astonished, and could hardly
believe their eyes, when they saw the ship float lightly and gracefully
on the river, instead of going to the bottom, as they so confidently
predicted. "Truly," they said, "these men have powerful medicine."

Birds are numerous on the Shupanga estate. Some kinds remain all the
year round, while many others are there only for a few months. Flocks of
green pigeons come in April to feed on the young fruit of the wild fig-
trees, which is also eaten by a large species of bat in the evenings. The
pretty little black weaver, with yellow shoulders, appears to enjoy life
intensely after assuming his wooing dress. A hearty breakfast is eaten
in the mornings and then come the hours for making merry. A select party
of three or four perch on the bushes which skirt a small grassy plain,
and cheer themselves with the music of their own quiet and
self-complacent song. A playful performance on the wind succeeds.
Expanding his soft velvet-like plumage, one glides with quivering pinions
to the centre of the open space, singing as he flies, then turns with a
rapid whirring sound from his wings--somewhat like a child's rattle--and
returns to his place ag