80 CHIEFS & CITIES OF CENTRAL AFRICA 



We discovered this to our infinite pain and grief 

 at M'burao, where the canoe grounded long before dry 

 land was reached. The Tuburi polers sprang into the 

 water, eager to carry us to the shore, and as there 

 was no other choice between that and unpleasant 

 wading, we accepted their offer. Mrs Talbot bravely 

 balanced on her waterman's shoulder, but he looked 

 unaccustomed to the task, and the distance to traverse 

 was long. I hesitated, turned coward, and paid for 

 it, as the fearful always do in Africa. I mounted 

 pick-a-back. We had barely started before my hands 

 felt wet. There could only be one cause, and I glanced 

 nervously first at the poler's glistening shoulders, then 

 at my glove. It was not only wet through but coal 

 black. I leant backwards and my shirt bore the same 

 disgusting marks. When dry land was reached, and 

 I sprang to the ground, my worst fears were realised 

 — and my skirt was filthy. An indescribable but pene- 

 trating odour also attached to me, and I felt like the 

 proverbial dog with a tin bucket tied on to its tail. 



Mrs Talbot had only suffered one small patch of 

 dirt where she had sat, and she was spared the 

 nauseating- smell that huno- round me. Courag^e was 

 indeed rewarded. 



I detested M'burao. The horrible place was swampy, 

 and it seemed an eternity before we found a dry spot 

 on which to camp. Then our tents had to be brought 

 and put up, and it was a very, very long time before 

 I was able to retreat to their shelter to change my 

 loathsome garments and to wash. 



I had learnt a lesson I shall not readily forget, and 

 that is never to let an unclothed man carry me. 



Masses of goods were waiting at M'burao, and 



