TREKKING THROUGH THE THIRST 169 
by describing, with pantomimic accompaniment of gest¬ 
ures, how when the white man shot a lion it might bite 
a swahili, who thereupon would call for his mother. But 
they were entirely friendly, and offered me calabashes of 
milk. The men were tall, finely shaped savages, their 
hair plastered with red mud, and drawn out into longish 
ringlets; they were naked except for a blanket worn, not 
round the loins, but over the shoulders; their ears were slit, 
and from them hung bone and wooden ornaments; they 
wore metal bracelets and anklets, and chains which passed 
around their necks, or else over one side of the neck and 
under the opposite arm. The women had pleasant faces, 
and were laden with metal ornaments—chiefly wire ank¬ 
lets, bracelets, and necklaces—of many pounds weight. 
The features of the men were bold and clear-cut, and their 
bearing warlike and self-reliant; as the flame of the fire 
glanced over them, and brought their faces and bronze 
figures into lurid relief against the darkness, the likeness 
was striking, not to the West Coast negroes, but to the en¬ 
gravings on the tombs, temples, and palaces of ancient 
Egypt; they might have been soldiers in the armies of 
Thothmes or Rameses. They stood resting on their long 
staffs, and looked at me as I leaned on my rifle; and they 
laughed and jested with their women, who felt the lion’s 
teeth and claws and laughed back at the men; our gun- 
bearers worked at the skinning, and answered the jests of 
their warlike friends with the freedom of men who them¬ 
selves followed a dangerous trade; the two horses stood 
quiet just outside the circle; and over all the firelight 
played and leaped. 
It was after ten when we reached camp, and I enjoyed 
