ed by a
discontented crew? I find, by the way, on coming down-country, that
Maurice was actually off the west coast of Africa in 1652, the year of
his supposed death. He is believed by some to have been lost in a storm
off the West Indies, but the circumstance of his death seems to be very
much shrouded in mystery. There is nothing clear about it.

"I told Mapana that I knew something of the origin of these relics.
That their owner had once been a warrior in my country; and that I
should like to take them home, and have them identified, if possible.
That for her own sake this ought to be done.

"She looked very wistfully at me, but shook her head, and told one of
her girls to put the sword and book back in her hut. The necklet she
put on again. By this time it was dark, and we sat by a blazing fire of
wood.

"Mapana now asked me to sup with her. I was not loth, of course; and,
having still some coffee, sugar, and a tin of condensed milk in my
saddlebags, I had them and the kettle brought round. I boiled some
water, and treated my charming barbarian to her first cup of coffee.
She was delighted, and drank two beakers of it with the greatest
enjoyment. Then nothing would do but I must give her my teaspoon. It
was an old worn silver one, as it happened. She looked so merry, so
good-humoured, so fascinating, there by the cheery firelight, that I
felt inclined to deny her nothing.

"`But,' I said, `you must give me something in return.'

"She looked reflectively for a moment, then sent a girl to her hut. The
girl returned with two more of the gold coins I have mentioned. They
were strung close together on fine sinew, and were used, as Mapana
showed me, as a fillet or decoration for the head. We made the exchange
amid much merriment and some chaff, and I think were mutually content.
I certainly had the best of the deal. Mapana, at my suggestion, used
the spoon with her milk and porridge, which she had previously eaten by
means of a kind of flat spoon--and her pretty fingers. I don't know
what possessed me--perhaps it was the caressing touch of her hand, which
had been once or twice laid upon mine while begging for the spoon--but,
before saying good-night and going to my hut, I asked Mapana if she
would like to be saluted in the fashion of my country. She assented
with a smile. I stooped towards her, placed my hands upon her
shoulders, and kissed her upon the cheek and lips. Never was caress
more sweet!