us to the skin, and even
necessitating the occasional baling of the canoes, and as the
rain beat down the wind we could not use the sails, and had to
get along as best as we could with our paddles.

At eleven o'clock we halted on an open piece of ground on the
left bank of the river, and, the rain abating a little, managed
to make a fire and catch and broil some fish. We did not dare
to wander about to search for game. At two o'clock we got off
again, taking a supply of broiled fish with us, and shortly afterwards
the rain came on harder than ever. Also the river began to get
exceedingly difficult to navigate on account of the numerous
rocks, reaches of shallow water, and the increased force of the
current; so that it soon became clear to us that we should not
reach the Rev. Mackenzie's hospitable roof that night -- a prospect
that did not tend to enliven us. Toil as we would, we could
not make more than an average of a mile an hour, and at five
o'clock in the afternoon (by which time we were all utterly worn
out) we reckoned that we were still quite ten miles below the
station. This being so, we set to work to make the best arrangements
we could for the night. After our recent experience, we simply
did not dare to land, more especially as the banks of the Tana
were clothed with dense bush that would have given cover to five
thousand Masai, and at first I thought that we were going to
have another night of it in the canoes. Fortunately, however,
we espied a little rocky islet, not more than fifteen miles or
so square, situated nearly in the middle of the river. For this
we paddled, and, making fast the canoes, landed and made ourselves
as comfortable as circumstances would permit, which was very
uncomfortable indeed. As for the weather, it continued to be
simply vile, the rain coming down in sheets till we were chilled
to the marrow, and utterly preventing us from lighting a fire.
There was, however, one consoling circumstance about this rain;
our Askari declared that nothing would induce the Masai to make
an attack in it, as they intensely disliked moving about in the
wet, perhaps, as Good suggested, because they hate the idea of
washing. We ate some insipid and sodden cold fish -- that is,
with the exception of Umslopogaas, who, like most Zulus, cannot
bear fish -- and took a pull of brandy, of which we fortunately
had a few bottles left, and then began what, with one exception
-- when we same three white