mong the native
people. If you would get news of your friends, you must know their local
cognomens-their own white man names will not do at all. For example,
I was called either Bwana Machumwani or Bwana N'goma. The former means
merely Master Four-eyes, referring to my glasses. The precise meaning of
the latter is a matter much disputed between myself and Billy. An N'goma
is a native dance, consisting of drum poundings, chantings, and hoppings
around. Therefore I translate myself (most appropriately) as the
Master who Makes Merry. On the other hand, Billy, with true feminine
indirectness, insists that it means "The Master who Shouts and Howls." I
leave it to any fairminded reader.

About the middle of the morning we met a Government runner, a proud
youth, young, lithe, with many ornaments and bangles; his red skin
glistening; the long blade of his spear, bound around with a red strip
to signify his office, slanting across his shoulder; his buffalo hide
shield slung from it over his back; the letter he was bearing stuck in
a cleft stick and carried proudly before him as a priest carries a cross
to the heathen-in the pictures. He was swinging along at a brisk pace,
but on seeing us drew up and gave us a smart military salute.

At one point where the path went level and straight for some distance,
we were riding in an absolute solitude. Suddenly from the jungle on
either side and about fifty yards ahead of us leaped a dozen women. They
were dressed in grass skirts, and carried long narrow wooden shields
painted white and brown. These they clashed together, shrieked shrilly,
and charged down on us at full speed. When within a few yards of
our horses noses they came to a sudden halt, once more clashed their
shields, shrieked, turned and scuttled away as fast as their legs
could carry them. At a hundred yards they repeated the performance; and
charged back at us again. Thus advancing and retreating, shrieking high,
hitting the wooden shields with resounding crash, they preceded our slow
advance for a half mile or so. Then at some signal unperceived by us
they vanished abruptly into the jungle. Once more we rode forward in
silence and in solitude. Why they did it I could not say.

Of this tissue were our days made. At noon our boys plucked us each two
or three banana leaves which they spread down for us to lie on. Then
we dozed through the hot hours in great comfort, occasionally waking to
blue sky through green trees, or to