A SAFARI AND WHAT IT IS 
75 
By six o’clock our folding table in the mess tent 
is laid with white linen and white enamel dishes for 
breakfast. So we take our places. If we are in 
a fruit country we have some oranges and bananas 
or papayas, a sort of pawpaw that is most delicious; 
it is a cross between a cantaloupe and a mango. 
Then we have oatmeal with evaporated cream and 
sugar; then we have choice cuts from some animal 
that was killed the day before—usually the liver 
or the tenderloin. Then we have eggs and finish 
up on jam or marmalade and honey. We have 
coffee for breakfast and tea for the other meals. 
While we are eating the tent boys have packed 
our tin trunks, our folding tent table, our cots and 
our pillows, cork mattresses and blankets. The gun- 
bearer gets our two favorite rifles and cameras, 
field-glasses and water bottles. Then down comes 
the double-roofed green tents, all is wrapped into 
closely-packed bags, and before we are through 
with breakfast all the tented village has disap¬ 
peared and only the mess tent and the two little 
outlying canvas shelters remain. It is a scene of 
great activity. Porters are busily making up their 
packs and the head-man with the askaris are busy 
directing them. In a half -hour all that remains is a 
scattered assortment of bundles, all neatly bound 
up in stout cords. 
One man may carry a tent-bag and poles, an¬ 
other a tin uniform case with a shot-gun strapped on 
top; another may have a bedding roll and a chair 
or table, and so on until the whole outfit is reduced 
