442 AFRICA SPEAKS 



ship steaming for what the coasters called "home," 

 sailing back to the noise and hustle, to the unending 

 strife and struggle of the white man's civilization. 



As the ship passed the last point of land that juts 

 out into the narrow channel, a company of native 

 soldiers, resplendent in their scarlet jackets, stood at 

 attention, while the buglers sounded the Nigerian fare- 

 well. For many of those who heard the notes echo 

 over the water, it would indeed be their last view of 

 that enchanting continent, but as for me, would I 

 never again hear the roar of the surf nor watch the 

 tall palms bend to the breezes of the Slave Coast? 

 I wonder I 



