"JAMBO, BWANA" 



boy of fifteen, or perhaps a man of thirty, but these raw 

 people are easily scared, and as the)- listen to such tales 

 rolling from the tongues of the local scandalmongers, 

 they quiver and regard the speaker with open mouths. 

 Horrified, the simple ones immediately go to the Boma 

 to announce that they are really members of one of the 

 tribes prohibited from entering the Congo, or to complain 

 that they have been badly treated on the march from 

 Kampala, the Bwana has flogged them, and so on, doing 

 all this at the bidding of the " converts." 



Here at Hoima we were besieged by boys wanting 

 soft jobs on the safari. One came up arrayed in a straw 

 hat of obsolete pattern, an old Askari tunic, a piece of 

 calico fashioned like a kilt, ammunition boots — size ten 

 — but no socks, a grizzly-faced truculent-looking creature. 

 I read through his record card, and among other remarks, 

 I read something like this : " Native Henry, has been in 

 my employ for the last four months as gunbearer. He 

 is absolutely hopeless." Further down : " Bearer, Native 

 Henry, has been far from satisfactory. Willing, but alas ! 

 not honest. Chase him off." Several boys' references 

 finished up with " useless," "... his appetite is appal- 

 ling," " spoilt all our food," "... either a ' has been ' 

 or ' never will be,' " "no hope for Tin Box. He gave 

 us endless trouble." Another came forward and produced 

 his " card " from the customary piece of dirty rag. 



" What work do you want ? " I asked. To which he 

 replied — 



" Cook, Bwana." 



" Have you done any cooking before ? " 



" Yes, Bwana." 



I opened the card, when lo ! I beheld that " he was 

 not a strong carrier." On seeing this I asked him his 

 name, to which he repiled, " Khasi " (Khasi is Swahili 

 for " work "). The name given in the book was 

 " Kadale." I threw the book at him and sent him 



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