MY FIRST (SETTLEMENT ON KILIMA-NJAR0. 133 
this, I knew these curs only cringe to force. I raised 
my stick, and brought it down wi th a sounding thwack 
on the shoulders of the inattentive man. “ Now,” 
I said, “ you pig, you slave, go and tell the chief I 
have come to say good-bye.” He looked startled and 
hurried off. Presently I was summoned by a Gaga 
warrior to approach, but before I reached the hedge 
of dracoenas that bounded Mandara’s enclosure the 
chief himself came striding to meet me, not, as I had 
nerved myself to meet him, with knitted brows and 
sullen scowl, but with a charming smile and beaming 
face. Taking both my hands in his outstretched 
palms, he said, “ What ! lias my white man come to 
see me already ? How good ! Now we must have a 
chat. Bring a seat there, and a cup of c tembo.’ ” 
This winning manner quite altered the tone of my 
feelings, and, after such graciousness, I felt that 
peevish complaints sounded very ill from my mouth. 
However, I braced myself to the disagreeable task, 
and told him resolutely that I must leave if any 
further demand for presents was made. “ You know, 
Mandara, I am a poor man. The Wa-alimu (wise 
men) of Ulaya have not provided me with many goods. 
I cannot afford to give you constant gifts. If you 
really want me to build here and live in your country, 
you must leave off asking me for presents.” 
Mandara, at these words, looked around on all 
present with well-acted astonishment. His one bright 
eye grew sad and perplexed under his knitted brow, 
as he said, “ What is the white man saying? I don’t 
understand. Why does he want to go?” My men 
then told him, with averted looks and in tones of 
deepest respect, that the white man was offended 
because Mandara’s Swahilis came asking for frequent 
