marriage again.

Kassim's story was greatly applauded, and he became at once a favourite
with the Zanzibaris.

He was drawn towards the head man, and made to sit down by him. One
Zanzibari gave him a handful of roasted peanuts, another gave him a
roasted banana, while a third touched up the fire; and the compliments
he received were so many, that for the time, as one could see, he was
quite vain. When a royal Dabwani cloth was spread out for inspection,
and finally flung over his shoulders, we saw him cast a look at Baruti,
which we knew to mean, "Ah, ah, Baruti, other folk can tell a story as
well as you!"

CHAPTER FOUR.

THE ELEPHANT AND THE LION.

At a camp on the Upper Congo, in 1877, Chakanja drew near our fire as
story-telling was about to begin, and was immediately beset with eager
demands for a tale from him. Like a singer who always professes to have
a cold before he indulges his friends with a song, Chakanja needed more
than a few entreaties; but finally, after vowing that he never could
remember anything, he consented to gratify us with the legend of the
Elephant and the Lion.

"Well," he answered, with a deep sigh, "if I must, I must. You must
know we Waganda are fond of three things--To have a nice wife, a
pleasant farm, and to hear good news, or a lively story. I have heard a
great many stories in my life, but unlike Kadu, my mind remembers them
not. Men's heads are not the same, any more than men's hearts are
alike. But I take it that a poor tale is better than none. It comes
back to me like a dream, this tale of the Elephant and the Lion. I
heard it first when on a visit to Gabunga's; but who can tell it like
him? If you think the tale is not well told, it is my fault; but then,
do not blame me too much, or I shall think I ought to blame you
to-morrow when it will be your turn to amuse the party."

Now open your ears! A huge and sour-tempered elephant went and wandered
in the forest. His inside was slack for want of juicy roots and
succulent reeds, but his head was as full of dark thoughts as a gadfly
is full of blood. As he looked this way and that, he observed a young
lion asleep at the foot of a tree. He regarded him for awhile, then, as
he was in a wicked mood, it came to him that he might as well kill the
lion, and he accordingly rushed forward and impaled him with his tusks.
He then lifted the body with his trunk, swung it about, and dashed it
against the tree, and afterw