308 IN AFRICA 



imperative that we find the mother before the baby 

 died. 



So we first enjoined our mob of porters, who 

 are chronically noisy, to be quiet under penalty of 

 a severe Jciboko punishment. We then sent out 

 Kavirondo, the big, good-natured porter who al- 

 ways acted as our interpreter when dealing with 

 the natives of the mountain district. He spoke the 

 dialects of the Wanderobo tribes. He was a mes- 

 senger of peace, and he was told to shout out 

 through the forest that we were friendly, that we 

 had the baby, and that the mother should come and 

 get it. We felt absolutely certain that the sound of 

 his voice would carry to where the mother was hid- 

 den. 



For an hour or more we heard the strong voice of 

 Kavirondo crying out his message of peace, and 

 yet no answering cry came from the black depths 

 of the forest. It began to look as if we were one 

 little black baby ahead. In the meantime the baby 

 was behaving beautifully. It was wrapped warmly 

 in a bath towel and seemed to enjoy the attention it 

 was receiving. Some one suggested that we leave 

 it in the shack and then all retire so that the mother 

 could creep in and recover it. But this had one 

 objection a leopard might creep in first. 



We cooked our dinner and away off in the forest 

 came the echoing shouts of Kavirondo. The camp 

 settled down to quiet and the camp-fires twinkled 

 among the towering trees. Then some one rushed 

 in to say that the father and mother had come in. 



