Round the Camp Fire 



it well worth while for the sake of the Mzungu 

 (Swah., European). 



After this slight interruption we continued after 

 the buck. I was greatly struck by the agility and 

 stealthiness with which the savage moved over the 

 ground, which he read like a book. The natives 

 constantly get thorns in the soles of their feet, but 

 they pick them out quite unconcernedly, or leave 

 them in until they return to camp. It was quite 

 humorous to see the enormous native water-jug 

 my orderly insisted on carrying on his back the 

 whole time. This and a weapon much resembling 

 an Irish shillalah were his sole worldly possessions. 

 Suddenly we came upon a very picturesque sight. 

 A splendid old trunk had been split from its top 

 to within twelve feet of its roots by lightning, one- 

 half falling one side and the second half the other. 

 It had the appearance of a pretty rustic bridge. 



Just beyond I sighted some more water-buck, 

 but they made off almost at once, and as both the 

 light and my energies were failing, I gave up the 

 chase and returned to camp, where I found all my 

 porters around the fire, eating the flesh of my 

 previous day's buck with no little avidity. They 

 cut the meat into bits about the size of my fist, 

 pierce them on to a stick, and jam the stick into the 

 ground at such an angle that the meat hangs over 

 and almost in the fire. I always wonder why the 

 stick does not catch fire. They then sit round in 

 a circle watching the meat being cooked, with the 

 most perfect look of contentment on their faces you 



47 



