AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 



Then we saw clearer the fine, big groves of palm and 

 the luxuriance of the tropical vegetation. Against 

 the greenery, bold and white, shone the buildings of 

 Mombasa; and after a little while more we saw an 

 inland glitter that represented her narrow, deep bay, 

 the stern of a wreck against the low, green cliffs, and 

 strange, fat-trunked squat trees without leaves. 

 Straight past all this we glided at half speed, then 

 turned sharp to the right to enter a long, wide ex- 

 panse, like a river with green banks, twenty feet or so 

 in height, grown thickly with the tall coconut palms. 

 These gave way at times into broad, low lagoons, at 

 the end of which were small beaches and boats, and 

 native huts among more coconut groves. Through 

 our glasses we could see the black men watching us, 

 quite motionless, squatted on their heels. 



It was like suddenly entering another world, this 

 gliding from the open sea straight into the heart of 

 a green land. The ceaseless wash of waves we had 

 left outside with the ocean; our engines had fallen 

 silent. Across the hushed waters came to us strange 

 chantings and the beating of a tom-tom, an oc- 

 casional shrill shout from the unknown jungle. 

 The sun was just set, and the tops of the palms 

 caught the last rays; all below was dense green 

 shadow. Across the surface of the water glided 

 dugout canoes of shapes strange to us. We passed 



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