118 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES. 



I glanced out of the window at the reddening 

 sky, thrust my feet into a pair of slippers, and 

 went forth in my pyjamas to see what I could see. 



We threaded our way through many narrow 

 dark and deserted streets, beneath balconies that 

 overhung, past walls over which nodded tufted 

 palms, until a loud and increasing murmuring 

 told us we were nearing the centre of disturbance. 

 Shortly, we came to the outskirts of the excited 

 crowd, and beyond them saw the red furnace glow. 



" Semeelay ! Semeelay ! " warned Mohammed 

 authoritatively ; and the bystanders, seeing a 

 white face, gave me passage. 



All of picturesque Mombasa was afoot 

 Arabs, Swahilis, Somalis, savages, Indians the 

 whole lot. They moved restlessly in the narrow 

 streets ; they hung over the edges of balconies ; 

 they peered from barred windows ; interested 

 dark faces turned up everywhere in the flickering 

 light. One woman, a fine, erect, biblical figure, 

 stood silhouetted on a flat housetop and screamed 

 steadily. I thought she must have at least one 

 baby in the fire, but it seems she was only ex- 

 cited. 



The fire was at present confined to two build- 

 ings, in which it was raging fiercely. Its spread, 

 however, seemed certain; and, as it was sur- 



