A TOWN OF CONTRASTS. 137 



" Nenda officie ! " indicates the charitable 

 person waving his hand towards the hotel office. 



Then, and not until this permission has been 

 given by some one, dares the savage cross the 

 threshold to do his errand. 



If the messenger happens to be a trained 

 houseboy, however, dressed in his uniform of 

 khaki or his more picturesque white robe and 

 cap, he is privileged to work out his own salvation. 

 And behind the hotel are rows and rows of other 

 boys, each waiting patiently the pleasure of his 

 especial bwana lounging at ease after strenuous 

 days. At the drawling shout of " boy ! " one 

 of them instantly departs to find out which 

 particular boy is wanted. 



The moment any white man walks to the edge 

 of the veranda a half-dozen of the rickshaws 

 across the street career madly around the corners 

 of the fence, bumping, colliding, careening dan- 

 gerously, to drop beseechingly in serried con- 

 fusion close around the step. The rickshaw 

 habit is very strong in Nairobi. If a man wants 

 to go a hundred yards down the street he takes 

 a rickshaw for that stupendous journey. There 

 is in justification the legend that the white man 

 should not exert himself in the tropics. I fell 



into the custom of the country until I reflected 



5 a 



