A VISIT AT JUJA 



sounded like very opprobrious epithets at such 

 natives as did not get out the way quickly enough to 

 suit him. The expression of his face, which was that 

 of a person steeped in woe, never changed. 



We rattled out of Nairobi at a great pace, and 

 swung into the Fort Hall Road. This famous 

 thoroughfare, one of the three or four made roads in 

 all East Africa, is about sixty miles long. It is a 

 strategic necessity but is used by thousands of na- 

 tives on their way to see the sights of the great 

 metropolis. As during the season there is no water 

 for much of the distance, a great many pay for their 

 curiosity with their lives. The road skirts the base 

 of the hills, winding in and out of shallow canons 

 and about the edges of rounded hills. To the right 

 one can see far out across the Athi Plains. 



We met an almost unbroken succession of people. 

 There were long pack trains of women, quite cheer- 

 ful, bent over under the weight of firewood or vege- 

 tables, many with babies tucked away in the folds 

 of their garments; mincing dandified warriors with 

 poodle-dog hair, skewers in their ears, their jewel- 

 lery brought to a high polish, a fatuous expression 

 of self-satisfaction on their faces, carrying each a 

 section of sugarcane which they now used as a staff 

 but would later devour for lunch; bearers, under 

 gonvoy of straight soldierly red-sashed Sudanese, 



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