In a Native Caravan 
turbans, their flowing tobes and by their long 
brass-handled swords in morocco scabbards sus¬ 
pended from their left shoulders by a large crim¬ 
son cord with tasselled ends. While we were 
resting at one of the stopping places, a caravan 
going from the coast to the interior overtook and 
passed us. Their loads consisted largely of kegs 
of powder, boxes of trade muskets, salt, cloths 
of different kinds, copper rods, and still more 
largely of green boxes containing cheap rum. 
The trade muskets had flint-locks and some were 
the guns thrown away by European governments 
when adopting superior weapons. The copper 
rods were to be made into bullets so that 
wounded men might die of poison if they were 
not killed by the bullet itself. 
It was then January, the dryest and hottest part 
of the year, and we suffered much from heat and 
thirst between the stopping places. Most of the 
way led through high grass and bushes of 
scrubby growth, but we were five hours passing 
through one of the forests. The path was just 
wide enough to allow my pony to pass between 
the walls of dense, impenetrable undergrowth on 
both sides. Sometimes he would get his feet 
entangled in a vine and nearly fall. We heard 
few sounds except the braying of immense tou- 
47 
