THE MOUNT ELGON COUNTRY 
281 
offered a golden reward for eggs and chickens, a 
sultan drifted in. 
We knew he was sultan because he carried a chair 
•—an unfailing sign of rank among a nation of ex¬ 
pert sitters. He also wore an old woolen dressing 
Slowly Being Cremated 
gown that had worked its way from civilization 
many years before. It was built for arctic regions, 
but the sultan of all the Ketoshians wore it right 
straight through the ardent hours when the sun 
kisses one with the fiery passion of a mustard plas¬ 
ter. He was slowly being cremated and it was fas¬ 
cinating to watch him sizzle. 
