could have had no connection with Paardeburg. The wells in Bloemfontein have always been polluted, and the cutting off of the water supply had probably far more to do with the epidemic than the delay at Paardeburg.

Colonel Maude complains that the British attack was checked by a loss of 3 per cent. in their numbers. Here also his figures will not bear examination. There were, so far as I know, only four brigades under fire in the attack on Paardeburg. They were Macdonald's, Knox's, Stephenson's and Smith-Dorrien's. Twelve thousand men would be a fair estimate of their numbers. More than 1,200 were hit, so that the proportion works out at not less than 10 per cent.-which is very different from Colonel Maude's statement. That no power on earth could induce the men to move forward' from behind the ant-hills is, I believe, equally erroneous. The casualty list is in itself sufficient to disprove it. Men who lie tight behind ant-hills do not lose 10 per cent. of their number.

All this has little to do with my original thesis, but I am following Colonel Maude in his attempt to illustrate the three lessons which he has drawn from the war. He then discourages the suggestion that a corps d'élite of mounted infantry could be formed. You cannot select men in peace for employment in war.' I should have thought that the formation of Guard regiments and other special corps in every army would tend to show that it is not so difficult. A better class of man with better pay will on the average give a better soldier. In Colonel Maude's desire that the general conditions of life of the working classes should be improved, we are of course all of one mind. These things depend, however, upon deep-lying economic causes which are not readily altered.

There is only one sentence of Colonel Maude's article to which I take serious exception. He says, 'I protest against the tone which Dr. Conan Doyle and most other correspondents adopt when speaking of our officers.' The 'other' is superfluous, as I was not a correspondent, but I should like to know which passage of my book it is to which Colonel Maude refers. Is it this: The slogging valour of the private, the careless dash of the regimental officer-these were our military assets'? Or is it 'The British colonels have led their men up to and through the gates of death'? Perhaps it is a braver man than the British officer, or one with a more indomitable and sporting spirit, is not to be found,' This is

my tone about the British officer against which Colonel Maude protests, and he quaintly enough ends his protest by the assertion, which I believe to be a great exaggeration, that one-third of them are not what they should be. I can assure Colonel Maude that the honour of the British officer is as dear to me as it can be to him. Many of my ancestors have lived and died in the service. My only brother belongs to it. Affection and esteem for a body of men does not necessarily exclude all criticism, but it at least forbids the adoption of a tone to which any reasonable man could take exception.

A. CONAN DOYLE.

HOW I ACTED THE MISSIONARY

AND WHAT CAME OF IT

ONE beautiful summer night in the fifties I was one of a group of boys huddled close together on a bed looking out through a window upon a divine scene, and engaged in debating upon the professions we should adopt when we should be grown up. It was the time of the Crimean war, and this influenced old and young. One boy said he was sure to be a soldier, as he wanted to fight the Russians; another thought he would prefer to be an admiral; while a third, fascinated doubtless by lawn sleeves, proclaimed his intention to be a bishop.

When it came to my turn I declared I would rather be a missionary-after the example of some fine brave fellow of whom I had read and whose name I have forgotten. I dare say that, as boys generally do, I may have had as many intentions as I had moods; but the memory of that summer's night has ever clung to my mind, though I must say that I am not conscious that it has exercised any influence on me.

In casting a glance at the four decades of years and more that have rolled by me since, I see that, without being specially appointed to make proselytes, I acted the missionary some twenty-four years ago, not realising at the time that I was fulfilling the resolve of my boyish days.

While circumnavigating the Victoria Nyanza in 1875, I came to a country called Uganda. Its nearest border to the Indian Ocean is about one thousand miles, and its western frontier is close upon eighteen hundred miles from the Atlantic. To reach Uganda by the route I took, one has to pass through twenty different tribes, all of whom resemble one another in their unalloyed barbarism, though dissimilar in other respects. Therefore, when approaching the country, we expected to see only a negro people as semi-nude and savage as those we had already passed.

But when we were yet many miles from Uganda our little boat was met by a flotilla of war canoes of somewhat classic 'Copyright in the United States and Canada by Perry, Mason and Co., 1900.

design, exceedingly well built, and manned by crews who in demeanour and dress showed that they were very superior to any people we had seen since leaving the sea. When we were near enough to talk, I learned that they had come in search of me because the king's mother had dreamed two nights before that she had seen on the lake a strange vessel which had white wings like a bird, and that there was a white man on board remarkable for his large eyes and long black hair. The king, on hearing of the vision, had despatched the commander in search of the strange white man, and to invite him to his court.

After some excusable hesitation we consented to accompany the commander, and to go and see this king. We had been surprised not only at the message, the vision of the king's mother, and the faith which the king had given to the dream, but at Magassa's mastery of the Zanzibar language, his rich clothes, and the snowy whiteness of his under-garments, and the good breeding and discipline which distinguished both commander and crews. Within a few hours our eyes were opened still further, especially at the large hospitality we received-for the very best in the land was spread before us in bountiful profusion, gratuitously and without asking.

On the second morning after meeting the commander, Magassa, our flotilla entered a deep bay, and by the way order was preserved we knew we must be approaching the king's camp. Our vessels moved in strict line, and the strokes of the paddles kept time regularly to the beat of the big drum situated 'midship in Magassa's canoe.

When near enough to the land to distinguish a man from a bush, the musketeers stood up and blazed away by volleys to signal the success of the king's messenger. Through a glass I observed on the shore a large multitude of people awaiting us, and by the movements made I surmised that our arrival was regarded as of some importance.

When I landed, my surprise at what I saw of Uganda and its people was complete, and greater perhaps than at any later period. The multitude had been ranged in two long lines, and as the scarlet-cloaked chief advanced towards me escorted by his standard-bearers and guards, some hundreds of muskets fired repeated volleys and the scores of flags and gaudy bannerets were rapidly waved aloft. I was also impressed by the amount of scarlet, gold and white that was visible in the quick glance I cast

over officers and people, for such things had never before been seen by me in my African travels, and therefore were entirely unexpected, nor had my only predecessor in this part of the continent described any scene similar to this.

Having gone through the ceremony of welcome in an ever wondering state of mind at the friendliness of the people and the unusual display of colour, feeling, and etiquette, we formed ourselves into a long procession, while the sound of many drums, the firing of musketry, and the braying of trumpets gave éclat to the scene. We halted after a while before a newly made hut with a spacious court attached to it, which was to be my residence, I was told. Not many minutes afterwards a herd of bullocks was driven into the court, and a veritable mound of bananas, besides native wine, fowls, eggs, &c., were piled up near my doorway as our provisions.

According to African etiquette some little time is allowed the stranger to refresh and rest himself before being summoned to the presence of the king. Until a little after noon we were therefore left with only a few visitors, who were fortunately very communicative. From them I learned that this town of nice huts was not the capital, but a mere hunting camp; yet such was the neatness of the houses, the regularity of the streets and lanes, and the admirable discipline everywhere, that it was infinitely superior to any Central African town within my knowledge.

When a page finally came to say the king was waiting for me, I set out, escorted by as large an assemblage of all ranks as that which had received me at the landing place. We marched up one of the broadest streets and presently came in front of a lofty dome-shaped hut which had only been built a few days before in the wilderness, and in its wide doorway stood the tall, slim figure of Mtesa, the king and despot of Uganda.

My first impressions of Mtesa were of course modified after a longer acquaintance, but I was always favourably inclined towards him, despite all his faults. For, after all, there was no one in all Pagan Africa like him; and when I remembered that all around him, a thousand miles on one side, and about two thousand miles on the other, was the blackest savagery, and that he was isolated from all civilising influences, I speedily forgot anything that made him appear less in my eyes than I at first supposed. During my first acquaintance with him, however, the inclination of my open mind was to absorb impressions without cavil or criticism.