158 THE BONDS OF AFRICA 



out the most dominant building on the sea-front, 

 with its tall tower and straggling blocks of 

 buildings connected by bridges and passages. 



This group of abodes for the Sultan, the 

 Sultana and other domestic appanages of every 

 Moslem ruler's court, was built by Seyid Bargash 

 between thirty and forty years ago; but in 

 1896 the Sultan was insolent to his Britannic 

 mistress, and in the bombardment that worked 

 a swift retribution, the house that Bargash built 

 was levelled to the ground, and his Islamic 

 Highness's Navy, by which I mean one old ship 

 named the Glasgow, was sent to visit Davy Jones. 

 A mast stands sorrowfully up from the sapphire 

 sea. It thrusts itself on your view right in 

 front of the very Palace gates, and seems to utter 

 an everlastincr warning to those of our scattered 

 kingdoms who resent the matronly hand of the 

 Great Protectress. 



Ali Bin Hamud, the modern pseudo-ruler, who 

 is a well-spoken Harrovian with a coffee-black 

 skin, recently abdicated, for he said his health 

 demanded such a step. The lights and bustle of 

 London, the gaiety of Paris and the subtle 

 splendour of modern Cairo appeal to him far 

 more than playing at High Steward in a semi- 

 pagan Sultanate. And who can wonder at his 

 Highness's impatient clamouring for release ? 

 Those who have been lionized in Europe are 

 not content to become Equatorial dormice. 

 Yet the Government in its wisdom thinks that 

 after the pleasure-grounds of Europe a house 

 in a clove plantation will fascinate for all time. 

 And so his youthful Highness has gone to regain 

 his health — by which I presume he means to 

 resurrect memories — and another reigns in his 

 stead. 



