service he had boarded and searched three
hundred dhows, which is an average of ten a day, and found slaves on
only one of them. But as, on this occasion, he rescued four slaves,
and the slavers, moreover, showed fight, and wounded him and two of
his boat's crew, he was more than satisfied.

The trade in ivory, which has none of these restrictions upon it,
still flourishes, and the cool, dark warerooms of Zanzibar are
stored high with it. In a corner of one little cellar they showed
us twenty-five thousand dollars worth of these tusks piled up as
carelessly as though they were logs in a wood-shed. One of the most
curious sights in Zanzibar is a line of Zanzibari boys, each
balancing a great tusk on his shoulder, worth from five hundred to
two thousand dollars, and which is unprotected except for a piece of
coarse sacking.

[Illustration: A German "Factory" at Tanga, the Store Below, the
Living Apartments Above.]

The largest exporters of ivory in the world are at Zanzibar, and
though probably few people know it, the firm which carries on this
business belongs to New York City, and has been in the ivory trade
with India and Africa from as far back as the fifties. In their
house at Zanzibar they have entertained every distinguished African
explorer, and the stories its walls have heard of native wars,
pirate dhows, slave-dealers, the English occupation, and terrible
marches through the jungles of the Congo, would make valuable and
picturesque history. The firm has always held a semi-official
position, for the reason that the United States Consul at Zanzibar,
who should speak at least Swahili and Portuguese, is invariably
chosen for the post from a drug-store in Yankton, Dakota, or a
post-office in Canton, Ohio. Consequently, on arriving at Zanzibar
he becomes homesick, and his first official act is to cable his
resignation, and the State Department instructs whoever happens to
be general manager of the ivory house to perform the duties of
acting-consul. So, the ivory house has nearly always held the eagle
of the consulate over its doorway. The manager of the ivory house,
who at the time of our visit was also consul, is Harris Robbins
Childs. Mr. Childs is well known in New York City, is a member of
many clubs there, and speaks at least five languages. He understands
the native tongue of Zanzibar so well that when the Prime Minister
of the Sultan took us to the palace to pay our respects, Childs
talked the language