Arrival at “ the Bushy 
4i 
Koyala, alias “Young Prince/’ father to Forteune 
and Hotaloya and brother to Roi Denis,-—here all 
tribesmen are of course brethren. This being 
equivalent to “ asking for more,” it drove me to 
the limits of my patience. It was evidently now 
necessary to assume wrath, and to raise my voice 
to a roar. 
“ My hands dey be empty! I see nuffin, I hear 
nuffin ! What for I make more dash ?” 
Allow me, parenthetically, to observe that the 
African, like the Scotch Highlander, will interpose 
the personal or demonstrative pronoun between 
noun and verb: “ sun he go down,” means “ the 
sun sets ” and, as genders do 'not exist, you must 
be careful to say, “ This woman he cry too 
much.” 
The justice of my remark was owned by all; 
had it been the height of tyranny, the supple 
knaves would have agreed with me quite as 
politely. They only replied that “ Young Prince,” 
being a man of years and dignity, would be dis¬ 
honoured by dismissal empty-handed, and they 
represented him as my future host when we moved 
nearer the bush. 
“ Now lookee here. This he be bad plabba 
(palaver). This he be bob! I come up for white 
man, you come up for black man. All white man 
he no be fool, ’cos he no got black face!” 
Ensued a chorus of complimentary palaver 
