138 



UNDER THE AFRICAN SUN 



male mosquito is not bloodthirsty ; it lives a vegetarian life 

 and, though "bearded like a pard," is harmless. It is the female 

 mosquito which is the hateful blood-sucker. When I lived at 

 Port Alice, on the top of the hill, in one of the primitive 

 structures called officers' residences which we pioneers of the 

 Government had to put up with in those bygone days, I used 

 to light a fire of green-wood every night to smoke these 

 pests out. 



The few hours I spent that night on the floor of the tent, 

 after a ride of twenty miles, I am not likely to forget, eaten up 



alive in the 

 meanwh ile 

 by the mos- 

 quitoes. The 

 tent was 

 pitched in a 

 grassy open- 

 i n g s u r- 

 rounded by 

 a mass of 

 shrubs and 

 forest trees. 

 With early 

 dawn I at- 

 tendedonmy 

 patient, pre- 

 scribed for 

 h i m, had 

 a hurried 

 breakfast, 

 and then 

 started on my twenty miles' ride back to Kampala. I reached 

 Kampala very late in the afternoon, as the forty miles in less 

 than twelve hours began to tell also on the horse. 



On the outskirts of Kampala I came suddenly upon a noisy 

 crowd of natives beating a war-drum. Inquiring who they 

 were, I heard they belonged to Mwanika, and that it was his 

 drum. They i^ed in every direction, but after a smart chase we 

 captured the drum and drummer. Not far from the king's 

 palace we came upon a second huge crowd ; a large number of 

 the men were armed with spears and some with guns. A man 



WAGANDA SPEARMEN. 



