re away at a great "sing-sing," and the rest of the
men in the fields or in their wives' houses. There is nothing for us
to do but sit down and wait, and be sniffed at by pigs, barked at by
dogs and annoyed by fowls. The moli beats vigorously on one of the
wooden drums that lie in the mud in front of the house. He has his
own signal, which most of the natives know, so that all the country
round is soon informed of his arrival.

One by one the men arrive, strolling towards the gamal as if
unconscious of our presence; some of them greet one or the other
of my boys whom they have met when visiting at the shore. Nearly
all of them are sick with leprosy or elephantiasis or tuberculosis,
and after the long rainy period they all have colds and coughs and
suffer from rheumatism; altogether they present a sad picture of
degeneration and misery, and there are few healthy men to be seen.

My luggage is taken into the gamal, and I order the boys to buy and
prepare food, whereupon the natives hurry away and fetch a quantity of
supplies: pigs, fowls, yam, taro, of which I buy a large stock, paying
in matches and tobacco. There are also eggs, which, I am assured,
are delicious; but this is according to native taste, which likes eggs
best when half hatched. While the boys are cooking, I spend the time
in measuring the villagers. At first they are afraid of the shiny,
pointed instruments, but the tobacco they receive, after submitting
to the operation, dispels their fears. The crowd sits round us on the
ground, increasing the uneasiness of my victims by sarcastic remarks.

Meanwhile, the women have arrived, and crouch in two groups at the
end of the square, which they are forbidden to enter. There are
about twenty of them, not many for nearly fifty men, but I see only
three or four babies, and many faded figures and old-looking girls
of coarse and virile shape, the consequence of premature abuse and
artificial sterility. But they chat away quite cheerfully, giggle,
wonder, clap their hands, and laugh, taking hold of each other,
and rocking to and fro.

At last the two chiefs arrive, surprisingly tall and well-built men,
with long beards carefully groomed, and big mops of hair. Like all the
men, they are dressed in a piece of calico that hangs down in front,
and a branch of croton behind. They have big bracelets, and wear
the curved tusks of pigs on their wrists. There is just time before
nightfall to take their measures and photogra