UNCANNY COOKERY 



gave it a wide berth and walked round it rather than 

 pass near. Even the carriers and other boys with me 

 regarded it as sometlung uncanny. 



I thought at first that the people in the neighbourhood 

 and in the N'joro or Mullah country were a timid com- 

 munity, but from what I had previously been told, I felt 

 that it would be advisable to be most careful in keeping 

 an eye on them day and night. 



I was rather interested to see the people in this part 

 of the world playing a game similar to what is known to 

 us as " knucklebones," but in lieu of the orthodox bones 

 they used a kind of bean. 



I remember, when close to the Kibali, organising a 

 sports afternoon for my boys. Obtaining a supply of 

 eggs from the neighbouring village I introduced an 

 egg-and-spoon race, while crossing a stream on poles 

 greased with elephant fat. It caused roars of laughter, 

 and the local natives were not satisfied until they had 

 tried also. No amount of persuasion would induce 

 them to do anything without carrying their weapons — 

 spears, knives, bows, quivers, and so forth. Even in 

 the running races they insisted on carrying them, although 

 they stripped off all their metal ornaments. In order 

 to prevent quarrelling it was necessary to give every 

 competitor a prize. Among my own boys I arranged an 

 egg duel. Two boys stood facing each other at a distance 

 of twenty yards, each combatant was armed with six 

 eggs. The boy that received one in the face laughed 

 more than any one, some of the eggs were " old timers." 

 The aspect of both boys when the contest ended was 

 laughable. Both of them scraped themselves with their 

 fingers and eagerly devoured the mess of egg that still 

 clung to their bodies and limbs. 



The hilly country was delightful to gaze upon after 

 the monotonous bush flats by the Nile. Fertile and 

 green, the grand slopes of pasture with babbling streams 



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