242 AFRICA SPEAKS 



on their wide veranda, the coolest spot in Mombasa, 

 kept so by refreshing breezes from the ocean. 



After a cool bath, I had donned civilized clothes 

 once more, and while reclining in a comfortable chair, 

 with a cold drink at hand, talking to my own kind of 

 people again, I watched a passenger liner move slowly 

 out through the channel toward the open sea. As 

 it nosed its way tlirough the narrows I was overcome 

 with homesickness and wished that my work were 

 completed so that I could return to my family' who 

 were so far away. Seven months had now passed since 

 I left Denver, and, although many adventures had be- 

 fallen us, there was much still to do, and the steamer 

 which I hoped would bear me homewards sailed from 

 a port on the opposite side of this vast continent! 



When Doherty's house boy awakened me the next 

 morning with the East African greeting, "Chai, 

 bwana," and placed the tray of hot tea at my elbow, 

 it required a few seconds to gather my thoughts, for I 

 was not accustomed to such luxuries as china cups, 

 clean hnen, and a soft bed. It was the season of fruits 

 and at breakfast the pishi served mangos, pawpaw 

 with lemon, and the most delicious bananas I had 

 ever eaten. 



On the way to town, I stopped to say "hello" to 

 my friend the tortoise. This giant land turtle is one 

 of Mombasa's most interesting citizens. He is looked 

 upon as a pioneer, for according to the accepted story, 

 he was brought here many hundreds of years ago by 

 a saiHng ship, hailing from the coast of South America. 

 Regardless of where he came from, or when, it is cer- 

 tain that he is not a native of Africa, and that he only 

 understands commands given in ItaUan. 



