THE WAGANDA 



lOI 



have had to pay for it elsewhere. He is dead now — died two years 

 ago. A tall, handsome man he was, cunning, plausible, but in 

 his heart against British rule in Uganda. One day he visited me 

 accompanied by the usual crowd of sub-chiefs and followers. 

 He sat on an English camp-chair, pufhng at an English pipe, and 

 he wore an English jacket ; and it seemed odd to hear him 

 glorifving those days of King Mtesa, when the European was still 

 an unknown stranger in Uganda. It would certainly have been 

 better for him to have treated Europeans, or at least European 

 inventions, with greater circumspection. One day he wanted to 



UPPER-CLASS WAGANDA. 



shoot a big elephant. Powder is cheap, ivory dear. He jammed 

 an elephant-gun half full of powder, rammed down a big bullet, 

 and blazed off. I did not hear w^hat fraction exactly of his arm 

 was left. A missionary in Usoga sent an urgent message to 

 Luba's for some one to come and tie up the artery, but in the 

 meantime the Mulondo bled to death. 



The king, chiefs, and upper-class Waganda have long ago 

 discarded bark-cloth. They prefer to wear white or coloured 

 cotton-cloth, either wrapped round the body in the same 

 fashion that bark-cloth is worn, or else as a kanzu, the long 

 white garment worn by Swahilies in Zanzibar and at Mombasa. 

 When clean and white the kanzu is most becoming in a native. 



