ully fought
their way through the jungle of forest, cheered by his encouragement,
awed by "Volapuek," and gradually growing to respect the dauntless
courage of the white man who managed them so nicely. A description of
an average day's work will give you an idea of Baden-Powell's task,
and the way in which his negroes worked.

Early in the morning, while the thick white mist is still hanging
athwart the forest, a drummer is kicked out of bed by a white foot and
bidden to sound "Reveille." Then there is a din of elephant-tusk horns
and the clatter of the elephant-hide drums. The camp is astir, and it
all seems as if the men are as smart and as disciplined as their
brother warriors in Aldershot or Shorncliffe. But the negroes have
only risen thus readily in order to light their fires and settle down
to a lusty breakfast of plantains. After his tub, his quinine and tea,
Baden-Powell sends for King Matikoli and demands to know why his three
hundred Krobo are not on parade. His Majesty smiles and explains to
the white chief that he is suffering from rheumatism in the shoulder,
and therefore he, and consequently his tribe, cannot march that day.
Baden-Powell, with his contradictory smile, solemnly produces a
Cockle's pill (Colonel Burnaby's _vade mecum_), hands it to the
monarch, and remarks that if his tribe are not on the march in five
minutes he will be fined an entire shilling. "The luxury," exclaims
B.-P., "of fining a real, live king to the extent of one shilling."
The king goes away for five minutes, and then returns with the
intelligence that if the white chief will provide his men with some
salt to eat with their "chop" (food) he really thinks they will be
able to march that day. B.-P. expresses a feverish desire to oblige
His Majesty, and proceeds with great alacrity to cut a beautifully
lithe and whippy cane. In an instant that tribe is marching forward
with their commissariat loads upon their heads. But there are others
still to be dealt with. The captains of one tribe are discussing the
situation, and would like Baden-Powell to hear their views.
Baden-Powell treats them as Lord Salisbury, say, would no doubt like
to treat the deputations that sometimes come to give him the benefit
of their opinions; he looks to his repeating rifle, talks about
fourteen corpses blocking the way of retirement, and _hey presto!_ the
other tribe is swinging down the forest-path laughing, singing, and
chattering, like children releas