FROM ADEN TO MOMBASA. 
33 
Camoens, coming later on his way to India, wrote of the ''noble 
edifices fairly planned on the seaboard,’’ of the town of Movita, as 
Mombasa was then called. The letter "m” or "n” prefixed to 
names gives a peculiar African flavor to them. 
Mombasa was undoubtedly Mbasa, as Entebbe was Nteve. 
Mfumbiro, M’tesa, Mwanga are all of such distinctively African 
resonance that the mere written words recall vividly the rich, soft, 
thick utterances of the natives. 
But we have lingered too long at the entrance to the harbors 
of Mombasa. There are two harbors. One is for ships of lighter 
tonnage on the town’s sea front to the northeast; the other, at Kilin- 
dini, on the island’s southwest side—for Mombasa is on an island— 
easily accommodates ships of any draught. To get there we turn to 
the left, then to the right, and glide by a well-buoyed channel to this 
inner harbor, past the governor’s residence and the other bungalows 
of the settlement that peep out from the dense tropical foliage. The 
landing is by little boats across a glassy, hot stretch of waters. 
CUSTOM FORMALITIES DISPENSED WITH. 
Col. Roosevelt was not-asked to go through the usual formalities 
of the custom house, but was conducted on landing by trolley and 
carried quickly from the docks over the two intervening miles to 
Mombasa. The trolleys are little affairs of two seats back to back 
with a sheltering hood, and are run on the narrowest gauge rails 
by fleetfooted natives, who push clamorously and odoriferously from 
behind—for even the wind of our going cannot disperse the African 
fragrance of their sweating, shining bodies. 
The road of blazing white coral sand is broad and level, passing 
through groves of bananas, palms and mangoes, beneath whose 
branches cluster the grass huts of the natives. Dusky throngs, clad 
in flowing white or scantily draped in rich colors, pass constantly 
up and down this highway where sunshine and shadow alternate in 
fierce contrast. 
The brilliantly blue sky, the vivid green of the foliage, the dazz¬ 
ling white road, the many reds, yellows and purples of the passing 
crowds, knock on the eyeballs with the same effect that rifle shots 
H. B. G.—3 
