RIDING THE PLAINS. 189 



We amused ourselves for some time thus. Then 

 we became so weak from laughter that we fell 

 backward off our seats, and some one gasped 

 a command that Herbert cease. 



I am afraid, after a little, that we rather en- 

 joyed mildly tormenting poor Herbert Spencer. 

 He tried so hard, and looked so scared, and was 

 so unbelievably stupid ! Almost always he had 

 to pick his orders word by word from a vast 

 amount of high-flown, unnecessary English. 



" Herbert Spencer," the command would 

 run, " if you would condescend to bend your 

 mighty intellect to the lowly subject of maji, 

 and will snatch time from your profound cere- 

 brations to assure its being moto sans, I would 

 esteem it infinite condescension on your part to 

 let pesi pesi." 



And Herbert, listening to all this with a pain- 

 ful, strained intensity, would catch the six-key 

 words, and would falter forth a trembling " N'dio 

 bwana." 



Somewhere down deep within Herbert Spen- 

 cer's make up, however, was a sense of moral 

 duty. When we finally broke camp for good, 

 on the great hill of Lucania, Herbert Spencer, 

 relieved from his job, bolted like a shot. As far 

 as we could see him he was running at top speed. 



