THE LAST FRONTIER 



o-ga!" with each of us; and departed at the same 

 springing rapid gait. The ordinary warriors greeted 

 us, but did not offer to shake hands, thank goodness! 

 There were a great many of them. Across the val- 

 leys and through the open spaces the sun, as it 

 struck down the trail, was always flashing back from 

 distant spears. Twice we met flocks of sheep being 

 moved from one point to another. Three or four 

 herdsmen and innumerable small boys seemed to 

 be in charge. Occasionally we met a real chief or 

 headman of a village, distinguished by the fact that 

 he or a servant carried a small wooden stool. With 

 these dignitaries we always stopped to exchange 

 friendly words. 



These comprised the travelling public. The resi- 

 dent public also showed itself quite in evidence. 

 Once our retainers had become sufficiently numer- 

 ous to inspire confidence, the jungle people no longer 

 hid. On the contrary, they came out to the very 

 edge of the track to exchange greetings. They were 

 very good-natured, exceedingly well-formed, and 

 quite jocular with our boys. Especially did our 

 suave and elegant Simba sparkle. This resident 

 public, called from its daily labours and duties, did 

 not always show as gaudy a make-up as did the 

 dressed-up travelling public. Banana leaves were 

 popular wear, and seemed to us at once pretty and 



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