226 IN AFRICA 



of the gunbearers and other followers of Allah. He 

 made friends with little Ali, the monkey's valet, a 

 small Swahili boy who looked like a chocolate drop 

 in color, and like a tooth-powder ad in disposition. 

 It was Ali's duty to carry the monkey on our 

 marches. 



The little gray monkey, with its venerable look- 

 ing black face fringed with a sunburst of white 

 hair, would be tied to an old umbrella of the Sairey 

 Gamp pattern, and would sit upon it as the small 

 boy carried it along the trails on his shoulder, like 

 a musket. Sometimes when the sun was strong the 

 umbrella would be raised to shield the monkey's 

 eyes, which could not stand the fierce glare incident 

 to a long march upon sun-baked trails. At such 

 times the monkey, who rejoiced in the brief name 

 of J. T. Jr. the same being emblazoned on the lit- 

 tle silver collar around its neck at such times the 

 monkey would scamper from shoulder to shoulder 

 of the small boy, with occasional excursions up in 

 the woolly kinks of the heights above. It was a 

 funny picture and one that never failed to amuse 

 those who watched it. 



Well, Little Wanderobo Dog, by some prescient 

 instinct hardly to be expected in one brought up in 

 a swamp, decided that little Ali and the monkey 

 were to be his "companions of the march." So, when 

 the tents were struck and Abdi, the head-man, 

 shouted "Funga nizigo ydkaf and the tented city 

 of yesterday became a scattered heap of sixty- 

 pound porters' loads, Little Wanderobo would seek 



