To S&nga-T&nga and Back . 133 
time, the owner, duly summoned, stalked down 
from his hut, and began remarking that there was 
still a “ palaver ” on the stocks. I replied by pay¬ 
ing him his money, and ordering the craft to be 
baled and launched. It was a spectacle to see the 
bushmen lying upon their bellies, kicking their 
heels in the air, and yep-yep-yeping uproariously 
when Forteune, their master, begged of them to 
bear a hand. Dean Presto might have borrowed 
from them a hint for his Yahoos. The threat to 
empty the Alugu (rum) upon the sand was effica¬ 
cious. One by one they rose to work, and in the 
slowest possible way were produced five oars, of 
which one was sprung, a ricketty rudder, a huge 
mast, and a sail composed half of matting and half 
of holes. At the last moment, the men found that 
they had no “ chop; ” a franc produced two 
bundles of sweet manioc, good travelling food, 
as it can be eaten raw, but about as nutritious as 
Norwegian bark. At the last, last moment, Lan- 
gobumo, who was to accompany us, remembered 
that he had neither fine coat nor umbrella,—indis¬ 
pensable for dignity, and highly necessary for the 
delicacy of his complexion, which was that of an 
elderly buffalo. A lad was started to fetch these 
articles; and he set off at a hand-gallop, making 
me certain that behind the first corner he would 
subside into a saunter, and lie down to rest on 
reaching the huts. 
