AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 



fire blazed in the middle of the floor. I stooped low 

 to enter, and squatted on my heels with the natives. 

 Slowly I steamed off the surface moisture. We had 

 rather a good time, chatting and laughing. After 

 a while I looked out. It had stopped raining. There- 

 fore I emerged and set some of the men collecting 

 firewood. Shortly I had a fine little blaze going 

 under the veranda roof of the station. F. and I 

 hung out our breeches to dry, and spread the tails 

 of our skirts over the heat. F. was actually the 

 human chimney, for the smoke was pouring in clouds 

 from the breast and collar of his shirt . We were 

 fine figures for the public platform of a railway 

 station ! 



We had just about dried off and had reassumed our 

 thin and scanty garments, when the babu emerged. 

 We stared in drop-jawed astonishment. He had 

 muffled his head and mouth in a most brilliant scarf, 

 as if for zero weather; although dressed otherwise 

 in the usual pongee. Under one arm he carried a 

 folded clumsy cotton umbrella; around his waist he 

 had belted a huge knife; in his other hand he carried 

 his battle-axe. I mean just that — his battle-axe. 

 We had seen such things on tapestries or in mu- 

 seums, but did not dream that they still existed 

 out of captivity. This was an oriental looking 

 battle-axe with a handle three feet long, a spike up 



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