AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 



we were gently and humbly besought — by the shop- 

 keepers, by the sidewalk vendors, by would-be 

 guides, by fortune tellers, by jugglers, by magicians; 

 all soft-voiced and respectful; all yielding as water 

 to rebuff, but as quick as water to glide back again. 

 The vendors were of the colours of the rainbow, and 

 were heavily hung with long necklaces of coral 

 or amber, with scarves, with strings of silver coins, 

 with sequinned veils and silks, girt with many dirks 

 and knives, furnished out in concealed pockets with 

 scarabs, bracelets, sandal-wood boxes or anything 

 else under the broad canopy of heaven one might 

 or might not desire. Their voices were soft and 

 pleasing, their eyes had the beseeching quality of a 

 good dog's, their anxious and deprecating faces were 

 ready at the slightest encouragement to break out 

 into the friendliest and most intimate of smiles. 

 Wherever we went we were accompanied by a retinue 

 straight out of the Arabian Nights, patiently await- 

 ing the moment when we should tire; should seek 

 out the table of a sidewalk cafe; and should, in our 

 relaxed mood, be ready to unbend to our royal 

 purchases. 



At that moment we were too much interested in 

 the town itself. T e tiny shops with their smil- 

 ing and insinuating oriental keepers were fascinat- 

 ing in their displays of carved woods, jewellery, 



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