FAREWELL TO AFRICA 433 



The station was in a great hubbub, the platform 

 swarming with dark humanity. Officious black men 

 in gold-braided uniforms pushed through the common 

 herd, which milled about in a happy but aimless 

 manner. A big black mammy with a six-foot tier of 

 baskets atop her head and a squalling youngster 

 strapped on her back, elbowed her way toward a tliird- 

 class coach, stopping en route to pay her compHments 

 to an undersized Son of Ham who rudely got in front 

 of her. 



Through this clamorous throng, men in flowing robes 

 of bright silks strode toward second-class coaches, 

 followed by seminaked servants carrying their baggage. 

 In this class also rode the black mistresses of white 

 men, and women considered good enough by their 

 native masters to be separated from the rabble. 



Most of the coaches were for the accommodation of 

 that tumultuous mob which rushed pell-mell for seats 

 when the guard threw the doors open. After this 

 scramble w^as over, the station master's first assistant 

 flunkey appeared with a large bell which he swung 

 mightily to and fro, this being the warning that if all 

 present were in favor of the move, the train could pro- 

 ceed. No dissenting votes being heard, the station 

 master expanded his chest Hke a pouter pigeon and 

 gave a majestic sweep of his arm, and thereupon the 

 train guard blew a shrill whistle. Upon hearing this 

 the engine driver tooted his siren and we were off — 

 for ten miles I 



When the dusky conductor came in to get my ticket 

 he asked where I was from, to which I replied, "Mom- 

 basa." He wanted to know if it was near Lagos. 

 I tried to explain its location, but he failed to compre- 



