156 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES. 



nothing about me. Now he approached, saluted, 

 smiled. He was a tall, slenderly-built per- 

 son, with phenomenally long, thin legs, slightly 

 rounded shoulders, a forward thrust, keen face, 

 and remarkably long, slim hands. With these 

 he gesticulated much, in a right-angled fashion, 

 after the manner of Egyptian hieroglyphical 

 figures. He was in no manner shenzi. He 

 wore a fez, a neat khaki coat and shorts, blue 

 puttees and boots. Also a belt with leather 

 pockets, a bunch of keys, a wrist watch, and 

 a seal ring. His air was of great elegance 

 and social ease. We took him with us as 

 C.'s gunbearer. He proved staunch, a good 

 tracker, an excellent hunter, and a most engag- 

 ing individual. His name was Kongoni, and he 

 was a Wakamba. 



But now we were confronted with a new prob- 

 lem : that of getting our twenty-nine chosen ones 

 together again. They had totally disappeared. 

 In all directions we had emissaries beating up 

 the laggards. As each man reappeared carrying 

 his little bundle, we lined him up with his com- 

 panions. Then when we turned our backs we 

 lost him again ; he had thought of another friend 

 with whom to exchange farewells. At the long 

 last, however, we got them all collected. The 



