of the askaris lifted up his voice.

"N'gonjwa! n'gonjwa!" he shouted; and at the shout the red cowls
gathered in front of the tent. Three things were likely to be the
matter: too much meat, fever, or pus infection from slight wounds. To
these in the rainy season would be added the various sorts of colds.
That meant either Epsom salts, quinine, or a little excursion with
the lancet and permanganate. The African traveller gets to be heap big
medicine man within these narrow limits.

All the red cowls squatted miserably, oh, very miserably, in a row.
The headman stood over them rather fiercely. We surveyed the lot
contemplatively, hoping to heaven that nothing complicated was going to
turn up. One of the tent boys hovered in the background as dispensing
chemist.

"Well," said F. at last, "what's the matter with you?"

The man indicated pointed to his head and the back of his neck and
groaned. If he had a slight headache he groaned just as much as
though his head were splitting. F. asked a few questions, and took
his temperature. The clinical thermometer is in itself considered big
medicine, and often does much good.

"Too much meat, my friend," remarked F. in English, and to his boy in
Swahili, "bring the cup."

He put in this cup a triple dose of Epsom salts. The African requires
three times a white man's dose. This, pathologically, was all that was
required: but psychologically the job was just begun. Your African can
do wonderful things with his imagination. If he thinks he is going to
die, die he will, and very promptly, even though he is ailing of the
most trivial complaint. If he thinks he is going to get well, he is
very apt to do so in face of extraordinary odds. Therefore the white
man desires not only to start his patient's internal economy with Epsom
salts, but also to stir his faith. To this end F. added to that triple
dose of medicine a spoonful of Chutney, one of Worcestershire sauce,
a few grains of quinine, Sparklets water and a crystal or so of
permanganate to turn the mixture a beautiful pink. This assortment the
patient drank with gratitude-and the tears running down his cheeks.

"He will carry a load to-morrow," F. told the attentive M'ganga.

The next patient had fever. This one got twenty grains of quinine in
water.

"This man carries no load to-morrow," was the direction, "but he must
not drop behind."

Two or three surgical cases followed. Then a big Kavirondo rose to his
feet.

"Ni