making a face at him as he raised the calabash to
his lips. "Here's long life to you, Kambira, an' death to slavery."

There can be no doubt that the chief and his retainers would have
heartily applauded that sentiment if they had understood it, but at the
moment Antonio was too deeply engaged with another calabash to take the
trouble to translate it.

The beer, which was pink, and as thick as gruel, was indeed too weak to
produce intoxication unless taken in very large quantities; nevertheless
many of the men were so fond of it that they sometimes succeeded in
taking enough to bring them to the condition which we style "fuddled."
But at that time the particular brew was nearly exhausted, so that
temperance was happily the order of the day.

Having no hops in those regions, they are unable to prevent
fermentation, and are therefore obliged to drink up a whole brewing as
quickly as possible after it is made.

"Man, why don't ye wash yer face?" said Disco to the little fiddler as
he replenished his calabash; "it's awful dirty."

Jumbo laughed, of course, and the small musician, not understanding what
was said, followed suit out of sympathy.

"Wash him's face!" cried Antonio, laughing, "him would as soon cut off
him's head. Manganja nevair wash. Ah me! You laugh if you hear de
womans ask me yesterday--`Why you wash?' dey say, `our men nevair do.'
Ho! ho! dey looks like it too."

"I'm sure that cannot be said of Kambira or any of his chief men," said
Harold.

"Perhaps not," retorted Antonio, "but some of 'um nevair wash. Once
'pon a time one man of dis tribe foller a party me was with. Not go way
for all we tell 'um. We said we shoot 'um. No matter, hims foller
still. At last we say, `You scoun'rel, we _wash_ you!' Ho! how hims
run! Jist like zebra wid lion at 'um's tail. Nevair see 'um after
dat--nevair more!"

"Wot a most monstrous ugly feller that is sittin' opposite Kambira, on
the other side o' the fire--the feller with the half-shaved head," said
Disco in an undertone to Harold during a temporary pause in eating.

"A well-made man, however," replied Harold.--"I say, Disco," he added,
with a peculiar smile, "you think yourself rather a good-looking fellow,
don't you, now?"

The worthy seaman, who was indeed an exceptionally good-looking tar,
modestly replied--"Well now, as you have put it so plump I don't mind if
I do confess that I've had some wild suspicions o' that sort now and
then."

"T