pay them the remainder of their wages and let them go. Or it may have been a message from Mandara, asking me to overlook their mutiny of the day before, and send them back to the coast with their money and food allowance, which decided me to this act of forgiveness, for such powerful advocacy was not to be slighted. Accordingly these creatures were summoned from Mandara's village, ranged in line by my Zanzibaris, and received their "chits," or slips of paper, which they were to present for payment to the Consul on the coast. On each "chit" was written the amount of the man's wages, minus fines for misbehaviour, or plus a present for well-doing. Further, perhaps, was a line or two of writing to serve as a character," good or bad, as the case may be, which Captain Gissing, when he payed them at Mombasa, would doubtless enlarge into a stern upbraiding or kindly commendation. I fear, however, from what I remember of these men, that he would have been more occupied in rebuking than commending, for a worse stamp of men than the Rabai porters I have rarely met with in Africa, and I think most other travellers' experience is the same. Their first evangelist, Krapf, describes them in despair as a "crooked and indifferent generation of heathens," and although the generation of which he wrote may have passed away, the one to which it has given place amply illustrates the principle of heredity by perpetuating with increased force the ancestral badness.

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It was with considerable relief that I dismissed them from my settlement in Čaga and turned to my faithful Zanzibaris, who were setting to work with bright activity to make our little colony inhabitable. Twenty of these Zanzibaris were allowed to lie by and

rest, for I intended to send them shortly back to Taita to fetch the goods there left behind in the missionary's house, when so many of the Wa-rabai deserted; but of the remaining twelve, each man received his appointed task. Abdallah was made supervisor of the working men; Mabruki and Athmani were already engaged in drying plants and skinning birds under my tuition; Faraji and Cephas were building a kitchen; Ibrahim was sent with Baher, Farijala, and Mwali Mnyani to take spades and clear the site for my house; Abdallah bin Saleh was to cut grass and attend to the goat and cow; Mguu collected firewood for the cooks; while, most important task of all, to Kadu Stanley was given the post of gardener-he had to dig up a piece of soil, divide it into neat plots, sow it with my English seeds, and hedge it round about with a sturdy palisade. The day succeeding my arrival I had already put into my kitchen-garden the seeds of mustard and cress, radishes, turnips, carrots, onions, tomatoes, borage, sage, cucumbers, and melons; and at the end of my first week in Čaga, I was already eating a salad of my own growing.

We did not, however, sink at once into this life of quiet colonization. During the first few days of my stay I was much annoyed by continual visits from Mandara's parasites; wretched bankrupt Swahili traders or runaway slaves, who had taken refuge with the chief of Moši from their creditors or owners; and, in the sense that a one-eyed man is king amongst the blind, so this rascality of the coast quite lorded it over the simple savage, and affected to consider itself on a par par with the white man. From the first time, however, that I met them on the road to Čaga, when they were sent to welcome me to Mandara's country,

I felt it would be a struggle for supremacy between us. They were secretly enraged at my coming, fearing to lose their influence over the fickle chief, and seeing much hindrance to the slave-trade, which they, the ex-slaves, were so profitably organizing. Accordingly, from the very first they sought to thwart me, and, without resorting to any overt act of malice, intended to render my stay in the country impossible. Before I had barely occupied my settlement a day they began making constant visits to my tent, coolly demanding this and that article in the name of Mandara. At first I simply declined, but, after one or two refusals, their ringleader, an ape-like, shrunken man, marked with small-pox, said in a threatening tone, "I tell you what, young man (kijana), if you are not more generous, you will never be able to stop here." I immediately seized my stick, and jumped after him; but he had gathered up his skirts and fled, followed by his companions. At this juncture there was but one course to be pursued. I called to me two or three of my men, took my walking-stick, and started on the road to Mandara's house. Arriving at his village green, I saw his Swahili parasites lolling about, some of them affecting to play with much interest a game like "draughts," called bao, although I saw them watching me out of the corners of their eyes. All, however, studiously remained indifferent to my approach, and for a second I paused, irresolute as to how I should announce myself to the chief. Then I called to the nearest man, who was stooping over one of the bao players, and told him quietly to go and tell Mandara I desired an interview. He kept his back turned to me, shrugged his shoulders, and smiled scornfully at his comrades. My temper rose, but, apart from

this, I knew these curs only cringe to force. I raised my stick, and brought it down with a sounding thwack on the shoulders of the inattentive man. "Now," I said, "you pig, you slave, go and tell the chief I have come to say good-bye." He looked startled and hurried off. Presently I was summoned by a Čaga warrior to approach, but before I reached the hedge of dracoenas that bounded Mandara's enclosure the chief himself came striding to meet me, not, as I had nerved myself to meet him, with knitted brows and sullen scowl, but with a charming smile and beaming face. Taking both my hands in his outstretched palms, he said, "What! has my white man come to see me already? How good! Now we must have a chat. Bring a seat there, and a cup of tembo.' This winning manner quite altered the tone of my feelings, and, after such graciousness, I felt that peevish complaints sounded very ill from my mouth. However, I braced myself to the disagreeable task, and told him resolutely that I must leave if any further demand for presents was made. "You know, Mandara, I am a poor man. The Wa-alimu (wise men) of Ulaya have not provided me with many goods. I cannot afford to give you constant gifts. If you really want me to build here and live in your country, you must leave off asking me for presents."

Mandara, at these words, looked around on all present with well-acted astonishment. His one bright eye grew sad and perplexed under his knitted brow, as he said, "What is the white man saying? I don't understand. Why does he want to go?" My men then told him, with averted looks and in tones of deepest respect, that the white man was offended because Mandara's Swahilis came asking for frequent

gifts for their chief. "Oh, is that all?" said Mandara, who had of course instigated the whole affair, and had sent these men to sound me gently, and see if I was of a generous and yielding temperament. "These men don't know what they are saying; they should converse with the white man's servants, not with him. But," he said, "we are wasting our time over little words-manéno madogo. Between the white man and Mandara only great affairs should be treated of, or else general and light conversation (zumgumzo). I am Sultan here, am I not? (An eager and hurried assent on every one's part.) "And this is the Baloza's child. Let him settle here in peace, and not concern himself with the conversation of slaves." Here he affected to scowl at the Wa-swahili, who bore all this tirade very stolidly, as if a pre-arranged comedy was being carried out. being carried out. However, I was not to be outdone in amiability, and so I heartily shook Mandara's great paw, and drank sour tembo (which I detested) with an affected enjoyment quite touching in its hypocrisy. Then a bright idea crossed my mind and I said-seeing that Mandara expected a reply to his oration—“ Mandara, I have got a little tale (hadithi) to tell you." "I am listening," answered the chief. "Once, do you know, in Ulaya, there was a man who had a hen (none of the Wa-čaga have heard of geese) which laid him every morning a golden egg. And the man was very pleased at first, but after awhile he got impatient, and he said, 'Instead of waiting for many days till I get a good sum from this hen's eggs, let me cut her open now, and get out all the gold at once.' And he did so, and found nothing inside. Now, wasn't that a foolish man, Mandara?" "Ye-es," replied the chief thoughtfully," perhaps he