30 AFRICA SPEAKS 



A great deal of the native life of Mombasa passed 

 before my observation post. Oif to my left was the 

 main crossing of the town, where stood the native 

 traffic policeman in his neat uniform and bare feet. 

 By his gestures and mighty blowing of the wliistle, I 

 gathered that he felt himself as important as any 

 officer of the traffic squad wherever found. Negroes 

 from the mainland, naked except for a loin cloth, would 

 stop to gaze, while the city boys who sported around 

 in the famihar kanzu, wliich looks hke a nightshirt, 

 would simply take a glance, tip their red fez to me and 

 pass on. Others with white skullcaps would not even 

 stop because they had attained to a high plane, being 

 servants in the houses of white men. Smart poHce 

 boys, trim soldiers, Arabs, Indians, Goanese, native 

 women, both fat and shm, taU and short, httle naked 

 boys, and girls not quite so naked, all passed before 

 me tlirough the bright sunlight, like actors on a bril- 

 liantly hghted stage. It was sometimes hard to reahze 

 that tliis was aU fact and not fancy, but when I 

 looked at the slowly moving Indian workmen who 

 were eating up my time, I realized it was not a dream 

 but a horrible fact! 



Meanwhile Baron von Bhxen had been looldng for- 

 ward to the day when his imaginary safari car would 

 become a reality. He had given its design long thought 

 and study, and upon arrival at Mombasa had pur- 

 chased a Chevrolet chassis which he drove to the shop 

 of an Indian fundi, to whom he gave instructions for 

 the building of his brain child. Now he came to me 

 and quite proudly described this marvelous body which 

 was being constructed. I had my doubts about the 

 result but thought maybe he had found a better fundi 



