so Yohama called him--entered upon a
series of gymnastic exercises with his father--for such Kambira was--
which partook of the playfulness of the kitten, mingled with the
eccentricity and mischief of the monkey.

It would have done you good, reader, if you possess a spark of sympathy,
to have watched these two as they played together. The way in which Obo
assaulted his father, on whose visage mild benignity was enthroned,
would have surprised you. Kambira was a remarkably grave, quiet and
reserved man, but that was a matter of no moment to Obo, who threatened
him in front, skirmished in his rear, charged him on the right flank
with a reed spear, shelled him on the left with sweet potatoes, and
otherwise harassed him with amazing perseverance and ingenuity.

To this the enemy paid no further attention than lay in thrusting out an
elbow and raising a knee, to check an unusually fierce attack, or in
giving Obo a pat on the back when he came within reach, or sending a
puff of smoke in his face, as if to taunt and encourage him to attempt
further deeds of daring.

While this was going on in the chief's hut, active culinary preparations
were progressing all over the village--the women forsook their hoes and
grinding-mortars, and the looms on which they had been weaving cotton
cloth, the men laid down various implements of industry, and, long ere
the sun began to descend in the west, the entire tribe was feasting with
all the gusto, and twenty times the appetite, of aldermen.

During the progress of the feast a remarkably small, wiry old negro,
entertained the chief and his party with a song, accompanying himself
the while on a violin--not a European fiddle, by any means, but a native
production--with something like a small keg, covered with goatskin, for
a body, a longish handle, and one string which was played with a bow by
the "Spider." Never having heard his name, we give him one in
accordance with his aspect.

Talk of European fiddlers! No Paganini, or any other _nini_ that ever
astonished the Goths and Vandals of the north, could hold a candle--we
had almost said a fiddle--to this sable descendant of Ham, who, squatted
on his hams in the midst of an admiring circle, drew forth sounds from
his solitary string that were more than exquisite,--they were
excruciating.

The song appeared to be improvised, for it referred to objects around,
as well as to things past, present, and to come; among others, to the
fact t