rtly after the Chief and his Prime Minister came in. He was a little
old gray-haired gentleman, as spry as a cricket, quite nervous, and very
chatty. We indicated our wants to him, and he retired after enunciating
many words. The safari came in, made camp. We had tea and a bath. The
darkness fell; and still no Chief, no milk, no firewood, no promises
fulfilled. There were plenty of natives around camp, but when we
suggested that they get out and rustle on our behalf, they merely
laughed good-naturedly. We seriously contemplated turning the whole lot
out of camp.

Finally we gave it up, and sat down to our dinner. It was now quite
dark. The askaris had built a little campfire out in front.

Then, far in the distance of the jungle's depths, we heard a faint
measured chanting as of many people coming nearer. From another
direction this was repeated. The two processions approached each other;
their paths converged; the double chanting became a chorus that grew
moment by moment. We heard beneath the wild weird minors the rhythmic
stamping of feet, and the tapping of sticks. The procession debouched
from the jungle's edge into the circle of the firelight. Our old chief
led, accompanied by a bodyguard in all the panoply of war: ostrich
feather circlets enclosing the head and face, shields of bright
heraldry, long glittering spears. These were followed by a dozen of the
quaintest solemn dolls of beebees dressed in all the white cowry shells,
beads and brass the royal treasury afforded, very earnest, very much
on inspection, every little head uplifted, singing away just as hard as
ever they could. Each carried a gourd of milk, a bunch of bananas, some
sugarcane, yams or the like. Straight to the fire marched the pageant.
Then the warriors dividing right and left, drew up facing each other
in two lines, struck their spears upright in the ground, and stood at
attention. The quaint brown little women lined up to close the end of
this hollow square, of which our group was, roughly speaking, the
fourth side. Then all came to attention. The song now rose to a wild
and ecstatic minor chanting. The beebees, still singing, one by one cast
their burdens between the files and at our feet in the middle of the
hollow square. Then they continued their chant, singing away at the tops
of their little lungs, their eyes and teeth showing, their pretty bodies
held rigidly upright. The warriors, very erect and military, stared
straight ahead.

A