( H. vf] at ^m. HEATLEY'S HOI SE 141 



and excitement over breaking camp after a few days' 

 rest as over reaching camp after a fifteen-mile march. 

 On this occasion, after they liad made up their loads, 

 they danced in a ring for half an liour, two tin cans 

 being beaten as tomtoms. Then off they strode in 

 a long line with their burdens, following one another in 

 Indian file, each greeting me with a smile and a deep 

 '' Vanibo, Bwana !" as he passed. I had grown attached 

 to them, and of course especially to my tent-boys, gun- 

 bearers, and saises, who quite touched me by their 

 evident pleasiu'c in coming to see me and greet me 

 if I happened to be away from them for two or tln'ee 

 days. 



Kermit and I i-ode off with Heatley to pass the niglit 

 at his house. This was at the other end of his farm, in 

 a totally different kind of country — a country of wooded 

 hills, with glades and dells and long green grass in the 

 valleys. It did not in the least resemble what one 

 would naturally expect in Equatorial Africa. On the 

 contrary, it reminded me of the beautiful rolling wooded 

 country of Middle Wisconsin. But of course every- 

 thing was really different. There were monkeys and 

 leopards in the forests, and we saw whydah birds of a 

 new kind, with red on the head and throat, and 

 brilliantly coloiu'cd woodpeckers, and black-and-gold 

 weaver-birds. Indeed, the wealth of bird-life was such 

 that it cannot Ije described. Here, too, there were 

 many birds with nuisical voices, to wliich we listened 

 in the early morning. The best timber was yielded by 

 the tall mahogo-tree, a kind of sandalwood. This was 

 the tree selected by the wild-fig for its deadly embrace. 

 The wild-fig begins as a huge parasitic \ine, and ends 

 as one of the largest and most stately, and also one of 

 the greenest and most shady, trees in this part of Africa. 



