them with the clean, healthy look
of the young British army officer. There would be a big reception at
Mombasa, no doubt, with bands a-playing and fireworks popping, when the
ship arrived with the new executive.

[Photograph: By courtesy of W.D. Boyce. "Crossing the Line"
Ceremonies]

[Photograph: Mr. Stephenson, Mr. and Mrs. Akeley and Mr. McCutcheon.
Courtesy of Boyce Balloonagraph Expedition]

[Drawing: _Before and After Outfitting_]

There were also several officials with high-sounding titles who were
going out to their stations in German East Africa. These gentlemen were
mostly accompanied by wives and babies and between them they imparted a
spirited scene of domesticity to the life on shipboard. The effect of a
man wheeling a baby carriage about the deck was to make one think of
some peaceful place far from the deck of a steamer.

Little Tim was the life of the ship. He was a little boy aged eighteen
months, who began life at Sombra, in Nyassaland, British Central Africa.
Just now he was returning from England with his father and mother.
Little Tim had curly hair, looked something like a brownie, and was
brimming over with energy and curiosity every moment that he was awake.
If left alone five minutes he was quite likely to try to climb up the
rigging. Consequently he was never left alone, and the decks were
constantly echoing with a fond mother's voice begging him not to "do
that," or to "come right here, Tim." One of Tim's chief diversions was
to divest himself of all but his two nearest articles of wear and sit in
the scuppers with the water turned on. A crowd of passengers was usually
grouped around him and watched his manoeuvers with intense interest.
He was probably photographed a hundred times and envied by everybody on
board. It was so fearfully hot in the Red Sea that to be seated in
running water with almost no clothes on seemed about the nicest possible
way to pass the time.

[Drawing: _Little Tim_]

There was a professional elephant hunter on board. He was a quiet,
reserved sort of man, pleasant, and not at all bloodthirsty in
appearance. He had spent twenty years shooting in Africa, and had killed
three hundred elephants. On his last trip, during which he spent nearly
four years in the Congo, he secured about two and one-half tons of
ivory. This great quantity of tusks, worth nearly five dollars a pound,
brought him over twenty thousand dollars, after paying ten per cent. to
the Congo governm