ABDI AND ABDULLAH 359 



would find him as trim and clean at the finish as 

 though he had just stepped out of a bandbox. 

 Jumma had the happy faculty of never looking 

 rumpled, a trick which I tried hard to learn, but 

 all in vain. He was as black as ebony, yet his fea- 

 tures were like those of a Caucasian; in fact, he 

 strikingly resembled an old Chicago friend. 



Among our porters there were many types of 

 features, and in a curious way many of them resem- 

 bled people we had known at home. One porter 

 had the eyes and expression of a young north-side 

 girl ; another had the walk and features of a prom- 

 inent young Chicago man ; and so on. 



Saa Sitaa was one of our brightest porters. His 

 name means "Six O'clock" in Swahili, six o'clock 

 in the native reckoning being our noon and our mid- 

 night. Just why he was given this significant name 

 I never discovered. Perhaps he was born at that 

 hour. It always used to amuse me to hear Abdi 

 calling out, "Enjani liapa, Saa Sitaa" "Come 

 here, Six O'clock." 



Baa Baa was a porter who always used to sing a 

 queer native chant in which those words were pre- 

 dominant. He would sing it by the hour while on 

 the march, and before long his real name was re- 

 placed by the new one. Henceforth he will, no 

 doubt, continue to be Baa Baa. He was promoted 

 from porter to camera-bearer, but one day he could 

 not be found when most needed, and he was reduced 

 back to the ranks. I never heard him sing again. 

 His heart was broken. 



