38 THE LAND OF THE LION 
meat or venison, in long strips of about a square inch in 
thickness. These he warms over the fire, no more, and 
then, cramming as much of one of them into his mouth 
as it will hold, places the knife as close as he dares to his 
lips, and cuts the chunk off, which, without further chewing, 
so far as I could see, he swallows down in one monstrous 
gulp. The meat is nearly raw, and he scarcely uses his 
magnificent teeth on it at all. It is hard, too, to induce 
him to cook anything thoroughly — sweet potatoes, beans, 
rice, maize—none are half done when he consumes them. 
Poor fellow, he pays his score. He seldom lives to be 
over forty. The cause of this unnecessary shortlivedness 
is uncertain, for in this new land where there is so much to 
do, and alas! so few capable of doing it, few scientific 
observers have as yet troubled their heads about him. 
But the presumption is he dies of worn-out bowels. His 
life is short, but till the sad, swift breakdown comes and 
he slips away, as he himself laughingly will tell you, to the 
sect (hyenas), itis merry. In a good sefari where porters 
are carefully chosen, and fairly treated, you hear the men 
singing and piping all the time. ‘They start at daybreak 
to the tune of the piper and the whistle and pipe play 
them into camp. 
As he tramps along, a more miscellaneous bundle of 
rags no one ever saw, yet, as you look closely, you will 
see remnants of coats once “‘built”’ in Bond Street, shreds 
of breeches long ago faultlessly cut by ‘Tautz or Hammond, 
and, somehow, held together round his waist. Where 
the clergy part with their cast-off clothes I do not know, 
but unmistakably clerical collar coats are quite common. 
Through all these curious rags, patched in a hundred 
places with every imaginable stuff, from cheap, American 
cotton to kongoni hide, his finely moulded limbs, magnifi- 
cent back muscles, and soft, silky, brown black skin shows 
freely. Look at him, for he is well worth your study! 
2 ee a ee 
OP ml Go 
