SEFARI LIFE 151 



sandals. The men willingly pay half a rupee to him for 

 a pair, and they supply the material. 



The barber is in a class by himself; among all the trades 

 he seemed to me to claim an undeserved preeminence. 

 But the wonders he performs with a sharp hunting knife 

 are beyond me. He will shave three to six completely 

 accurately drawn, circles, round the patient's (sic) head - 

 these circles are half to three quarters of an inch in width 

 and are as regularly drawn as though the great man used 

 a compass. I have never seen him draw blood no 

 hedge-cutting, shrub-trimming Dutchman in Holland ever 

 produced, on his favourite greenery, stranger or cleverer por- 

 trayals of still life, or animal life, than the sefari barber 

 cuts off, or leaves on, or makes up, in a native's woolly hair! 



The sefari doctor, however, is important, too. If you 

 fail the men, or if your "dowa" is too strong (they hate 

 liquid quinine which is, of course, the best form in which 

 to give the drug to a man in fever) they hie them to him, 

 and pay him too. The compounding of his medicine he 

 keeps to himself. I never could get him to tell me any- 

 thing. Speaking of doctoring, I found that, occasionally, 

 the men suffered much from toothache, and I regretted 

 that I hadn't brought along a forceps, and had not taken 

 a few lessons in tooth drawing. 



Hoey (my professional hunter, a fine fellow, who accom- 

 panied me on my late trip, when I rode lions) always car- 

 ried one, and as he was very muscular, had never been 

 beaten by even a back grinder, but his methods seemed 

 to me rather forceful. 



I learned something about "my boys" as I strolled 

 among their little fires of an evening. I was surprised at the 

 natives' aptitude for industrial work; and encouraging 

 and developing this is surely the best way to help and 

 elevate him. Practically nothing has yet been attempted 

 here, and all work in iron, wood, and stone is left to the 



