POLLY'S WHISTLE. 
65 
on the moist ground under the banana trees. I allowed no one to 
go near her; the passion^ I was sure_, would soon exhaust itself. 
At sunset I was in the saloon^ and saw at the door a bedraggled 
figure,, wanting^ yet fearing, to come in. This was, of course, Halima. 
I said to her quietly, When you are neat and washed I will speak 
to you." I heard a sobbing as she turned away. In half an hour she 
had washed the soiled frock, put on another, and mastered her temper. 
I drew her to me and spoke words of kind rebuke ; I kissed her, 
and, utterly subdued, she laid her head upon my shoulder and asked 
pardon. Since then Halima fights the good fight to conquer her- 
self. The following morning I noticed that she took from Achmed 
a robe I had given him, and which he was making lame attempts to 
sew, and finished it for him. 
E;inga, the uncle of W angyo, expressed a desire to make himself 
useful to us j so he, with Achmed, was appointed to wait at table. 
Very soon he understood his duties. He tells fearful anecdotes of 
his race; but, unless convinced of the truth, I will not pain our 
friends at home by recounting them. They are too horrible to be 
believed. 
The poor sheep Pluck," two days after our arrival here, died 
from the eflPects of a serpent's bite. I did so regret him. The 
wonderful bird proved to be a parrot, the well-known lavender with 
a red tail. He was not at all clever, and during our residence here 
has picked up but one- trick, and that to me was at first a trouble. 
It has always been Petherick's habit to whistle in a peculiar way 
when he approaches my whereabouts, and it is also my habit to run 
to meet him when I hear it. One day I heard this whistle, and 
went to greet my husband, but he was nowhere to be seen. I re- 
turned somewhat put out to the saloon ; again the signal sounded, 
again I was disappointed. This occurred four times, and at last, 
6 
