An Impression 



weight. He has been in his turn to fetch his 

 comrades their water this evening. Horrid red 

 legs and ribs of freshly killed meat, shot on this 

 morning's march, are being divided up amongst 

 all and sundry. The usual couple of porters are 

 having a fight over a piece of what will be con- 

 verted into tripe (without the onions !). My 

 "guide, philosopher, and friend," in the shape of 

 a savage Masai, comes and takes his spear with 

 my little Union Jack on it, and puts it inside 

 my tent, safe from the dew. My orderlies are 

 rushing about packing up heads and skins that 

 have been put out as usual to dry in the sun all 

 day. The cook looks slightly worried, and the 

 boy is standing ready with a change of shoes and 

 socks. 



The guard has fallen in by the camp fire, and 

 the bugles are sounding the "assembly." The 

 soldiers fall in, are called to "attention" and 

 stood "at ease." The colour-sergeant arrives 

 and gives his report ; matters for the morrow's 

 march are settled ; sick men seen and attended 

 to ; the headmen of the porters have their orders 

 issued to them ; and master retires to write this 

 " Impression " with the aid of a lamp and a whisky 

 and soda. 



Shall I ever go to Africa again ? Please don't 



bet about it! Go yourself and see what you 



think! Leave the shady side of Pall Mall and 



bury yourself in space, and peace, and Africa as 



M 177 



