A SAFARI AND WHAT IT IS 75 



By six o'clock our folding table in the mess tent 

 is laid with white linen and white enamel dishes for 

 breakfast. So we take our places. If we are in 

 a fruit country we have some oranges and bananas 

 or papayas, a sort of pawpaw that is most delicious ; 

 it is a cross between a cantaloupe and a mango. 

 Then we have oatmeal with evaporated cream and 

 sugar; then we have choice cuts from some animal 

 that was killed the day before usually the liver 

 or the tenderloin. Then we have eggs and finish 

 up on jam or marmalade and honey. We have 

 coffee for breakfast and tea for the other meals. 



While we are eating the tent boys have packed 

 our tin trunks, our folding tent table, our cots and 

 our pillows, cork mattresses and blankets. The gun- 

 bearer gets our two favorite rifles and cameras, 

 field-glasses and water bottles. Then down comes 

 the double-roofed green tents, all is wrapped into 

 closely-packed bags, and before we are through 

 with breakfast all the tented village has disap- 

 peared and only the mess tent and the two little 

 outlying canvas shelters remain. It is a scene of 

 great activity. Porters are busily making up their 

 packs and the head-man with the askaris are busy 

 directing them. In a half-hour all that remains is a 

 scattered assortment of bundles, all neatly bound 

 up in stout cords. 



One man may carry a tent-bag and poles, an- 

 other a tin uniform case with a shot-gun strapped on 

 top; another may have a bedding roll and a chair 

 or table, and so on until the whole outfit is reduced 



