Chapter XIV: Part 14

THURSDAY, APRIL 10.—I awoke very early this morning, and found unloading in progress at Port Amelia. The deck passengers were up, as it was necessary to disturb them in order to remove the hatches and get at the cargo. But when we are at sea, the deck passengers divide the space over the forward hatch, and make rooms for themselves with bundles and boxes. Some of them have carpets in their bundles, and nearly all of them have bedding. A tarpaulin forms a covering over them, and at night their quarters are lighted by a bunch of electric lights. It is surprising how well these deck passengers get along, and how comfortable they are. They may buy supplies of the ship steward, and seem to have plenty to eat. Most of them are going back to India, which is not far away from this coast. It was from India that the small Arab boats came, after the Mohammedan conquest, and made slaves of hundreds of thousands of the people of the East Coast of Africa.... Here is an exact description of a dinner I saw six Indians eat yesterday evening: They squatted around a large pan of rice, which had been cooking most of the afternoon on the galley stove. In the centre of the rice was placed a small pan containing a yellow liquid; probably curry. In the curry-pan was a spoon, and the diners used this spoon to ladle out the curry into the rice. Each man covered the portion of rice in front of him with curry, and then stirred up the mass with his fingers, in order that the curry might be thoroughly mixed with the rice. The diners were very polite; when one of them used the spoon, he passed it on to the man next to him. The rice and curry being thoroughly mixed, the diners made it into balls with their fingers, and put it in their mouths. During the meal they discussed the gossip of the day in the most animated manner, as do diners who have many articles of food, served with plate and silver. One old Hindu in the party doesn’t seem to be very well, and he soon retired from the circle, and three others followed him not long after, but two young fellows remained until both pans were scraped clean. Civilized men eat a great variety of food, but the more primitive races do not seem to care for it.... Port Amelia is located in the finest harbor I have seen in Africa, but it is in the wilds, and does not amount to much. The place was founded by a major in the English army, who had been cashiered for bad conduct. He sold his rights to a British company, which secured a franchise for a railroad to Lake Nyanza, and hopes to finally be able to finance the venture. Any story of the American frontier may be duplicated in Africa; adventurers are bold, and capital timid. Several Arab boats which seemed to be hundreds of years old, came off after cargo. These boats do not exceed sixty or seventy feet in length, and sail all along the coast and to India. Several of the passengers accompanied Captain Ulrich ashore before breakfast. The captain is an enthusiastic photographer, and takes pictures in natural colors with an ordinary camera. Anyone may do it by using the special plates which are sold in most trade centres. The captain sells his pictures in Germany for very good prices.... Port Amelia was a short horse, and soon curried, and by 10 A. M. we were out at sea again, being entertained by a Hindu fakir who obtained permission to come up on our deck. This man has been my neighbor ever since I came aboard at Beira; he is camped on deck, with his family, in front of my window. He has a wife, a daughter of fourteen, a son of twenty, and a son of nine, and an old retainer who seems to be half cook and half assistant. My neighbor proved to be the cleverest man of his class I had ever seen. The collection amounted to only $2.50, and the old man was considerably disappointed, saying he did better in the second-cabin the day before. The son of twenty attempted a trick, but failed to do it, and was hooted by the passengers. Then the father attempted it, and succeeded without any difficulty. The old fakir knew me, having seen me in my room many times, from his quarters on deck, and addressed most of his conversation to me while doing his tricks. He talks a little of half a dozen languages, and Sammy Marks, the theatrical manager, says the old fellow would prove a drawing card at any theatre.... There is a woman on board who is said to resemble the late Queen Victoria. I think she started the story herself, as she seems very proud of the alleged resemblance.... The people on this ship are much politer, and much quieter, than were the passengers on the English ship “Anchises,” on which we sailed from Australia to South Africa. The English go crazy about ship sports, and greatly annoy those who want to be quiet, but the Germans are more considerate of others.

FRIDAY, APRIL 11.—We have spent this day in the open sea. Usually we are in sight of land, but if there has been any in sight today I have not seen it. There was a rain-storm this morning, but it soon passed away. This is our fifth day out, but the sea has been remarkably smooth; I have never seen it equally gracious, either on the Pacific or the Atlantic. We have not had enough motion to disturb the weakest stomach, and I shall always remember the Indian ocean with gratitude. The weather has been hot, but usually we can find enough breeze to be comfortable. A good many slept on deck last night, finding their cabins stuffy.... The leader of the band and orchestra is a waiter in the dining-room. I cannot understand why a man able to lead a very good orchestra with a violin, and a very good band with a cornet, is compelled to work as a waiter. The bass player in both organizations is our table steward, and he is very capable, although he cannot speak a word of English.... There are eight at our table. One was born in France, one in Alsace-Lorraine, one in Scotland, one in England, one in Wales, one in Spain, and two in America. One of the ladies traveled three years in India and two in Australia, with a circus owned by her husband, and did a riding act. She is now a widow, and conducts a riding-school in Johannesburg. One of the men is a Johannesburg electrical engineer, on his way to America to study late developments in the science. Another is Sammy Marks, a theatrical manager, who will shortly open a new theatre at Nairobi, British East Africa. This town is 350 miles inland from Mombasa, and on the way there he will pass by rail through as good a game country as there is in Africa. His wife looks and talks like an American girl, and, being accused of it by me, replied that she was glad of it. She was born in Paris, but has lived in Africa since she was a little girl. Still another man at our table is the Frenchman before referred to, one of the politest and oddest characters I have ever known. He is an automobile agent, and told me that on his present trip he sold eighty-five machines in Africa. He doesn’t like the Germans on the ship, and makes them all the trouble he possibly can. One day at dinner he ordered fish, and six different kinds of meat, which he nibbled at, and sent away. He always drinks two kinds of wine at dinner, and sometimes three. He keeps the waiter so busy that the others at the table complain of neglect. The food on the “Burgermeister” is surprisingly good and abundant.... I suppose there was never a chief steward on an ocean-going vessel who was not a mean man. He it is who must say “no” when passengers become unreasonable. When a woman complains to a retail grocer of one of his clerks, the grocer sides with the woman, but at heart he believes the clerk was right. It is the same way when a passenger complains to the captain of the chief steward: the captain is sympathetic, but believes the steward is right. Our chief steward is a big, good-natured man, and while we are all in league against him, we are disposed to like him. The captain is not only the youngest man I have ever seen in command of a ship, but the best-looking. The chief officer is not over thirty years old. All the members of the crew are young, and speak enough English to “get along” after a fashion with the English passengers. One woman ordered a cup of tea, and the waiter brought her two bottles of whisky, opened. Another woman ordered a plate of crackers, and the waiter brought her a whisky and soda. These are cases you hear of; I have had no trouble, and congratulate myself that I chose a German ship instead of an English one. There is a quiet gentility about the passengers I greatly admire. I heard before coming on board that there would be no English-speaking passengers. Nearly all of them speak English, and the bill of fare is printed in English, as well as in German. The African trip is not an advisable one, owing to the great distances, but anyone who makes it in spite of my advice to the contrary, should go home by the East Coast in a German boat.... There are a large number of young men on board, and all of them well-behaved. There are only two girls on board, and only ten women altogether. The orchestra plays every night, and there is usually dancing; the five dancing women receive a lot of attention.... The feeling between the English and Germans is more intense than I expected to find it. When an Englishman asked me what would be the attitude of the United States in case of war between Germany and England, I was amused, but since then a dozen have asked me the same question. They all seem to think the United States should assist the English. On one of the ships of the German East Africa line, a few weeks ago, there was an incident which might have precipitated the long-talked of war between Germany and England. Among the passengers were several Englishmen; one of them with a title. On this line it is a habit among the women to drink coffee after dinner in the smoking-room. The Englishmen did something that was considered offensive by the German women, and, the captain hearing of it, he promptly called the Englishmen to account. The Englishmen were furious; particularly the one with a title. He said the women had no business in the smoking-room; that he had done nothing offensive, and would not be corrected by anyone, captain or no captain. The captain also had a temper, and he replied that if a titled Englishman didn’t know the ordinary rules of politeness, he would teach him. The two men glared at each other a few moments, and the incident was closed, but it might easily have resulted in serious trouble; if the captain had put Sir Thomas in irons, an international complication might have arisen speedily. The Germans have hasty tempers, and are slow to apologize; the same thing may be said of the English, and both have a very good opinion of their fighting ability; with Germany rather in the lead in conceit, since the Boer war.... This morning the band played a selection which closed with “God Save the King.” Two Englishmen who sat near me, arose to their feet, and stood until the hymn was finished. Yesterday the band played “The Watch on the Rhine,” but the Germans paid no attention to it; they did not even applaud. Last night the band played “The American Patrol,” closing with “The Star-Spangled Banner,” but the two Americans on board paid the air no special attention.... A printed notice was placed on the bulletin board this afternoon, stating that Law mass will be celebrated in the ladies’ parlor next Sunday, at 10:30 A. M. There was great curiosity to know the meaning of Law mass. Being a printer, and accustomed to the mistakes of printers, I was able to solve the riddle: the printer should have set up the word “low” instead of “law.” The mystery was nothing more than a typographical error.... There is a bride and groom on board, and the fact that one or the other is sulking most of the time has attracted a good deal of attention.... One passenger has attracted everyone’s admiration because he is a fine walker. Most people walk in a very awkward manner, but this man, a Portuguese count, walks with so much grace as to attract compliments.... At 9 o’clock tonight we came to Zanzibar, and were at once surrounded by the usual crowd of screaming boatmen. Near us was anchored the steamer for Bombay, and the Hindu deck passengers packed up and departed. I shall miss them every morning when I look out of my window; they came to know me, I was so close a neighbor. The Hindu juggler was my favorite: he had a far-away look that would have become a mystic. The big negro Mohammedan who took so much pride in his prayers also stood high in my estimation, as he was a very dignified and quiet man. I went down to the gang-plank, and said good-by to these two as they disembarked carrying their pans and pots, and boxes and bundles.... Some of the passengers went ashore, but I remained and listened to the band concert, and watched the unusual scene of activity about the ship. The men engaged in unloading are mainly Mohammedan negroes, and they make more noise and do less work than any other workmen I know anything about. They not only scream all the time, but keep up a sort of song. At intervals they all quit the work on which they are engaged and clap their hands in unison.

SATURDAY, APRIL 12.—Zanzibar is unusual in many ways, but not as unusual as I expected it to be. I measured several of its streets this morning, and found them nine feet wide. These were mainly residence streets; the principal business streets are a little wider, and automobiles run in them. I met a gentleman named Hay in Zanzibar, an official of the cable company, and called at his home several times. He lives in the queerest house I have ever seen. It fronts on the sea, and was built and occupied many years by an Arab gentleman. The house is enormous in size, and some of its rooms must be thirty or forty feet square; it amused me immensely to see a dining-table, set for two, in the centre of the enormous dining-room; Mr. Hay has no children, and he and his wife are the sole occupants of the big house, except that four native servants slip about as quietly as mice. In the centre of the house is an enormous court, open to the sunlight, and when I visited the place we used to run across this, to avoid sunstroke. The bath-room of the house is another large room, with a depression and drain in the cement floor; every floor in the house is of cement and the walls of rough stucco plastered outside and inside. The water for bathing is carried to the Hay home by negro women, and for this service they receive three shillings a month, or seventy-two cents. The women carry the water on their heads, in Standard Oil tins, and have the best figures in the world, because of their habit of carrying loads on their heads. In the Hay house, as in all the other homes in Zanzibar, there is a roof garden, where the dwellers go when the nights are excessively hot. The Hay servants receive $1.25 a month, and board themselves. Mr. Hay told me they were great thieves; most of the other white people I met in Africa spoke highly of the honesty of the blacks. The approach to the house is a crooked street nine feet wide, and the front door an elaborate affair of bronze. An Arab invests a great deal of his money in his front door, as river pilots are said to invest most of their money in watch chains. This queer, rambling house rents for $20 a month. While sitting on its veranda, looking out to sea, a warship lying only a few hundred yards away fired a salute of a dozen guns, and caused Adelaide to scream, as the guns were pointed directly at us.... Mr. Hay has lived on the edge of the east fifteen or twenty years, as an employee of the cable company, and says that in his bachelor days he never shaved or put on socks except when a ship was expected in the harbor. The arrival of a ship in these far-away places is a big event to the white residents, as they nearly always dine aboard, and hear gossip from home.... Zanzibar, the town, is not as large as I expected to find it. I don’t know how many blacks are scattered over Zanzibar island, which is 50 miles long and 25 broad, but the total white population amounts to less than one hundred and fifty. Of white women and girls, there are only fifteen; and all of them smoke cigarettes, one citizen told me. When I meet a woman over here who smokes cigarettes, I am usually told that her husband is coaxing her to quit the habit. While in Zanzibar, the subject of women smoking cigarettes came up, and several men said to me: “My sisters never smoke; they would as soon think of cutting their throats.” I have rarely known a woman cigarette-smoker who did not tell me that her husband objected. Nice women smoke, but they would be nicer if they didn’t. Cigarette-smoking in women seems to be associated more or less with drinking: I sat in a party one night, at one of our stopping-places, and one woman drank five highballs, in addition to smoking nearly a box of cigarettes.... There is one narrow, crooked street in Zanzibar which is occupied entirely by Hindus. The street is so narrow that a carriage cannot be driven through it, and the shops of the tradesmen are very small; a merchant may sit in the middle of his shop, and reach everything it contains. Many of the occupants of the street are jewelers, and manufacture very wonderful articles with very simple tools. Leading off the street referred to are other narrow streets, and there is nothing more curious in Cairo or Delhi. Prices are actually very high in Zanzibar, unless you haggle with the merchants. One woman who was asked $35 for a cat’s-eye, finally paid $5 for it; another was asked $7.50 for an opal, and got it for $1.25. A professional horse-trader might do well as a shopper in Zanzibar, but the ordinary traveler is robbed. In San Francisco are curio stores displaying eastern goods five times larger than any similar store in Zanzibar. And in San Francisco the one-price system prevails. There are still larger stores in New York for the sale of curious things of Japanese, Indian or Chinese manufacture, and the merchants are reliable, whereas if you attempt to buy anything in Zanzibar, you usually deal with a rogue.... I had an automobile ride in Zanzibar I shall always remember. We drove across the island, a distance of twenty-four miles, and were almost constantly passing through native villages. The natives of Zanzibar seem to be more prosperous than the other negroes we have seen, and they have adopted all the customs of the strange races they meet here. Everywhere we saw negro women hiding their faces behind veils, a custom learned from the Hindus. We also saw negro women with gold buttons in their noses, rings on their toes, and bracelets on their ankles; they had seen these customs practiced by other women, and adopted them, without any particular reason.... I believe I saw more cocoanut trees on Zanzibar island than I ever before saw anywhere; and everywhere the people were preparing copra, the dried meat of the cocoanut. Copra produces an oil used in soap-making, and is in brisk demand. Wherever we go here we get the disagreeable smell of copra; it reminds one of very rancid butter.... We also passed through many miles of clove trees. Ninety per cent of all the cloves produced in the world are raised on Zanzibar island, where conditions are just right. Cloves are widely used in the manufacture of perfumes; in nearly every perfume is a little of the oil of clove. The clove trees are eighteen to twenty-five feet high, and do not look unlike orange trees. The crop is gathered by native women and children, and finds its way to every portion of the world. The island of Zanzibar is not unlike the island of Ceylon, of which it reminded me. Rice is extensively grown, and the banana and mango flourish, as do mosquitoes, malaria, donkeys, goats, and the inclination to go naked all the year ’round. Returning from the automobile trip, we were late, and the driver, a Hindu, tore like mad through the streets of the native villages. We lit our lamps at a native village, and entered Zanzibar after nightfall. Riding through the narrow streets of this old town after night, in an automobile, was an experience I shall always remember, for Zanzibar reminds every visitor of the towns described in “The Arabian Nights.” It is a typical Arabian town, and there seems to be a mystery and a romance behind every door. The town was ruled for hundreds of years by a Sultan, until the English took charge. There is still a sultan, who receives a salary from the English government, but some day he will be deposed, and there will be no further pretense of a Sultan having anything to do with the government. The old palace of the Sultan—an ugly affair which looks like a boarding-house—is used for offices by the British. Near the palace is the harem, now deserted, since the present Sultan has but one wife. The Sultan who had trouble with the English was educated in England, and spent much of his time, and all of his revenues, in Paris. One day an English gunboat sailed into the harbor, and the captain told the gay Sultan that he had been ousted. The Sultan resented the high-handed proceeding, and sent word to the defenders of his dignity to sink the English gunboat and put the insolent captain in the dungeon. There was an old fort near the palace, on the walls of which were mounted a few rusty iron cannon. The defenders of the Sultan tried to fire these at the English gunboat, but they burst, one by one, and almost wiped out the Sultan’s defensive force. The captain of the English gunboat then began dropping shells into the palace, and, with one solid shot, sank the Sultan’s navy: a small vessel which carried four guns. The last remnants of this wreck were being removed from the harbor the day I was at Zanzibar.... Near the middle of the town is a place called “The Gardens.” It was formerly the bathing resort of the wives of the Sultan. The place is now used as a town hall, and I went there with Sammy Marks, the theatrical manager, who wished to engage it for an attraction. He paid twelve shillings for the use of the hall. Dances are also held in the hall; the bathing-pool is covered with planks when the hall is rented. On other days, the bathing-pool, formerly the resort of the Sultan’s wives, is used by the school-boys, and scattered around the hall I saw a good many pieces of gymnastic apparatus.... Our summer weather is never as hot as the hot weather of Africa. Whenever we go ashore we carry a sunshade, and, with that protection, suffer more from heat than we ever suffer at home.... After our return from the automobile trip, Mr. and Mrs. Hay were our guests for dinner on the ship. They remained until nearly midnight, listening to the band concert, and “visiting.” Their boatman was anxious to go ashore, but Mr. Hay dared him to; there is a law here that a native boatman who takes a passenger out to a ship, must wait until the passenger is ready to return.... This afternoon we drank tea with an English official on the other side of the island. The official invited in several other Englishmen and their wives. The Englishmen were very polite, but I have never felt more uncomfortable in my life. I didn’t know when we started on the automobile ride that there was to be a function; it was arranged as an agreeable surprise by Mrs. Hay. I am sure the polite Englishmen enjoyed the parting as much as we did.... Dozens of native guides came on board last night and this morning, offering their services. Most of them had big names; one called himself George Washington, another Abraham Lincoln, another Oliver Cromwell, etc. But one quiet, modest negro said to the passengers:

“Me Poor Charley.”

And Poor Charley was a favorite; everyone who needed a guide tried to engage him.

SUNDAY, APRIL 13.—England and Germany are not far apart in East Africa. We left Zanzibar, which is in British territory, at 5 A. M. this morning. Four hours later we were in Dar-es-Salaam, the capital of German East Africa. I shall remember this place particularly because the ship entered its harbor through an entrance which did not seem to be more than two hundred feet wide in one place, and because of the great number of Germans who came aboard, and remained all day, and nearly all night, drinking beer and singing songs. Most of our German visitors wore uniforms; Germany uses more uniforms than any other country in the world, population considered. We went ashore at 9 A. M., and found a very pretty modern town with the usual fifty blacks to one white. There is a hotel at this place which is considered a wonder, and a good many of the passengers went there for lunch or dinner.... All the time we were walking about, black ricksha boys followed us, and finally they proved a blessing when a rain came up; we entered the vehicles, and went to the hotel, where we found a lot of our passengers drinking beer on the verandas.... Cocoanut trees grow in great profusion here, and on one I counted fifty-four nuts. I have always had a notion that four or five nuts is a pretty good average for a cocoanut tree.

MONDAY, APRIL 14.—We have been in three different towns today: Dar-es-Salaam, Zanzibar, and Tanga. We left Dar-es-Salaam at daylight, and stopped at Zanzibar for the mails at about 10 A. M., remaining an hour. Several of our friends came on board, but none of the passengers went ashore. Dozens of Indian merchants came out to the ship, and worked rapidly, as they expected the whistle to blow any moment. The passengers also shopped rapidly, having heard that goods might be had at low prices during this brief shopping period. Hundreds of purchases, mostly of useless trifles, were made. Most travelers are as particular to buy presents for all their friends as they are to remember them at Christmas-time. When the whistle finally blew, there was a scramble of merchants and their assistants to get into the little boats, and one man was compelled to jump and swim for it. Many of the passengers ordered clothing of the Zanzibar tailors, on Saturday, which was delivered today. A pants and coat of white duck, so generally worn here, cost $2.50 for the best quality, and as low as $1.75 a suit for lighter material. The ladies also ordered skirts, and the charge was $2.25.... At 11 A. M. we left Zanzibar, and six hours later were at Tanga, also in German East Africa. We have made very little progress in the last three days, our time being devoted to loading freight. But I think we took on most of all at Tanga. All through the night the steam winches were going, and they did not cease work until after breakfast. One gang of men slept while the other worked. The forward winches are not many feet from my cabin window, and all through the night there was a tremendous racket, but, greatly to my surprise, I slept fairly well.... The usual uniformed Germans came on board at Tanga, and visited our officers. At Dar-es-Salaam and Tanga every vacant berth on the ship was filled with a German, and several are sleeping in the music-room. Five of the new passengers are babies, and several of the others are Kaffir nurses. One of these nurses is a man with whiskers, and certainly six feet high. To see him caring for a baby is very amusing. Still another new passenger is a Kaffir girl, a nurse, but she is so scantily dressed that she has been refused the run of the upper decks.... A young German girl left the ship at Tanga, and we hear she is engaged to the ship doctor. Their love affair has been the subject of much gossip, and when the girl left for shore in a small boat she wept bitterly. Bets of two to one are freely offered that the engagement will not result in marriage.... There is general relief because a young bull, which has been on board ever since we left Beira, departed on a scow at Tanga, after being lifted over the sides by the steam winches. The bull seemed to understand that he was about to get rid of his long confinement in a narrow box, and behaved very decently while being unloaded.... The trip up the east coast of Africa is distinguished because of its many stops, but this makes it a long trip. We are becoming tired, and did not go ashore at Tanga.

TUESDAY, APRIL 15.—There must be a tremendous amount of cargo on this boat. We ceased loading at Tanga at 9 o’clock this morning, and at 5 P. M. began again at Mombasa. At 5:15 we went down the stairway at the side of the ship, and a fight began among the boatmen over our patronage. The negro crew of row-boat No. 5 won, and we went ashore, stopping on the way at the “Adolph Woerner,” lying in the harbor. Landing, we walked a block to the street-railway, which is one of the queer affairs called a “trolley” over here, although there is no trolley. The street-railway runs from the port, called Killindini, to Mombasa, a mile and a half away, and only handcars, pushed by native men, are operated. There is a double track, with branches to every important section of Mombasa. Every citizen of importance owns one or more handcars, called “trolleys,” and these are lifted off the track when not in use, and you see them standing everywhere about the town. The fare up-town by trolley is not five cents, as is the case in the United States, where the people are mercilessly robbed by the corporations; the fare is forty-eight cents per passenger, after 6 P. M., and twenty-four cents during the day. Three men pushed our trolley, and, when they came to a piece of down-hill track, they all rode. We had employed a black boy as guide at the landing, at thirty-six cents an hour, and when we struck an up-hill piece of track, the guide also helped push. Thus with four men we got along very well, and were soon in the heart of old Mombasa, said to have been besieged oftener than any other town in the world; which is a pretty good story, if true, for there is fairly accurate authority for the statement that Jerusalem has been besieged and taken fifty times.... The trolley system of Mombasa stops at the postoffice; we left our car there, and walked into the old part of the town. In Zanzibar the streets were crooked, but in the old section of Mombasa the buildings seem to have been built without any order whatever. There are no streets; only spaces between the buildings, and these are very narrow. The inhabitants of the section through which we passed at about 6 P. M. are mainly people from India, and thousands of children were playing about the narrow passages, or in the quaint shops, which were almost as small as shops set up by children at play. It was almost dark, and the usual illumination in the average shop was a lantern. The shopkeepers wore turbans, and all sorts of strange clothing, and there was a touch of every country except the country I am most familiar with. I could not have named one-tenth of the articles displayed in the shops, and in one place a phonograph was playing Hindu airs as strange to me as the old town of Mombasa. We went to a market where hundreds of people were quarreling over food prices, and where the people seemed to come out of foreign books rather than out of real life. Occasionally we came across a wholesale house, and in the offices of these we saw Hindus working at typewriters. Drinking-shops abounded, and out of these came drunken men who leered at us impudently and curiously. There were a good many native hotels with guests sitting idly about. Mothers ran everywhere hunting their children, and the streets, not much wider than our sidewalks, were crowded with jabbering, gesticulating men and women who seemed to us to be rather ill-natured.... We passed an old fort which looked as large as Edinburgh castle, in Scotland; Mombasa is a big town, and prosperous, and its institutions are on a large scale. The guide said there was a still more interesting fort fifteen minutes away, and we went there by trolley. The fort is situated on the seashore, and only a ruin, but it looked very interesting in the moonlight. The old cannon used in defense of the place, I don’t know how many centuries ago, were still looking grimly out of ruined portholes, and just below the portholes the waves were tumbling noisily, as if anxious to climb up the rocks and complete the ruin of the place. Near the old fort was a lighthouse, flashing its signals out to sea, and directly in front of the lighthouse was the wreck of a steamship. The tide was out, and we went on board for a few minutes. There is probably nothing which so completely depicts ruin and desolation as a wrecked ship, lying on its side, and stripped of everything of value by vandals and the sea. We also climbed up to the lighthouse tower, and the keeper showed us the mechanism. It was the first lighthouse I have ever inspected at close quarters; usually they are located on rocks hard to get to.... When we went back to town, neither English nor German money would satisfy the trolley-boys, so I went into the shop of a money-changer, and paid twelve cents for enough Indian rupees to satisfy my creditors. The three trolley-boys who had taken us to the old fort took us to the landing, at a breakneck speed. One of the three rode all the time, and they relieved each other at the work of pushing. When the grade was down hill, they all rode. Down one long hill we must have traveled at the rate of thirty miles an hour. When we left the trolley, we were seized upon by a boatman who had wandered from the landing to get the first chance at ship passengers returning from town.

“Promise me, master,” he said; “me No. 67.” We promised, and followed him to the landing. Other boatmen constantly joined our procession, and we were soon in the center of a howling, fighting mob, but we had promised No. 67, and were faithful to him. At first, he was one to a hundred, but as we neared the landing, his three companions came to his assistance, and we were finally able to go aboard No. 67. I sat in the stern, and handled the tiller-ropes, and the ride out to the ship was cool and enjoyable.... Arriving at the ship, we found it surrounded with freight barges, and loading in furious progress. Eight steam winches were at work, four forward and four aft, and hundreds of screaming natives were swarming over the barges and down in the hold where the freight was being stored. A man who lives in this part of the world, and is familiar with it, says that when the natives are talking, they are at work; when they are quiet, he stirs them up with a stick, for he knows they are loafing. The loading on the forward deck was not ten feet from my cabin, and the quartermaster assured me it would go on all night. At 10: 30 there was a short rest, and the native workers swarmed up from below, and over from the barges, to be fed. The crew cook gave them pans of either rice or corn-meal mush, I could not tell which, and the men sat around in groups, and ate it with their fingers. The deck passengers, who have comfortable quarters over the hatchway when we are at sea, scatter everywhere when the hatches are uncovered, and loading is in progress.... I was much interested in a negro man who had two wives. The women had little babies of about the same age, and the husband seemed as fond of one wife as of the other. The husband was a young man, perhaps twenty-five, and his wives were still younger. The black babies were much better behaved than the white ones in the first-cabin. Since the arrival of the five white babies, the “Burgermeister” has been turned into a nursery. Some mothers are disposed to be apologetic when their children annoy others, but the mothers on the “Burgermeister” look at the other passengers as though they are a mean lot for not assisting in taking care of the babies. When a baby cries in my presence, I somehow feel as though I made it cry. I learned the various processes of caring for babies in bringing up my own, but had I not learned the art long ago, I might learn it all on board the “Burgermeister,” from intimate association with it. All the babies are German, except one Portuguese.... I was more interested in Mombasa than in Zanzibar. It is larger, and has better public buildings of every kind. The general impression is that Mombasa has a bright future, while Zanzibar seems to be as large as it can ever hope to be.... The known history of Mombasa began a thousand years ago, but many say this section was settled, and was the scene of fierce wars, long before the Christian era. It has been Portuguese territory and Arab territory, and they quarreled and fought over it constantly until the British took possession, and told both contending factions to behave themselves. If the old forts in Mombasa could talk, they might tell tales of bloodshed and cruelty that would startle modern mankind.... Mombasa is the port of entry for the vast territory of Uganda, a name which calls up memories of Livingstone, Speke, Grant, and Stanley. The railroad beginning here runs to Victoria Lake. It was this railroad on which Roosevelt made his trip into the interior, riding on the cowcatcher much of the way, and being in constant sight of big game. I have seen no wild game except one pheasant, and a good many baboons, but it is all around us, a few miles in the interior.... Imaginative writers draw beautiful word-pictures of this country and its future, but the facts are that it is a country beset with many pests and difficulties. I have talked with men from many sections of it, but they do not tell stories of wonderful prosperity. On the contrary, they tell stories of hot weather, of natural difficulties to be overcome, and of hard pioneering. Whoever lives here must not expect health; he must “go home” as frequently as possible, to recuperate, as do our soldiers in the Philippines. There are as many undeveloped “natural resources” in the Philippine Islands as in Africa; the greatest difference is that the African natives are better workers than the Filipinos, and not so much attention is paid to their liberties as we are paying to the liberties of the Filipinos.... This section is known locally as “British East.” Some say British East Africa is a better country than Cape Colony or Natal, or the Transvaal, or the Orange Free State, but the general evidence is that it is not.... The “Burgermeister” has a wonderful cargo in its hold. This morning I saw a lot of ivory come on board, and asked an official what else we carried to the markets of the world. We have rubber, cloves, Colombo roots, ginelda wood for tanning, chrome ore, a great lot of copper ore, gum copal, copra, cocoanut fiber, carianda seeds, great quantities of bullock and goat hides, ostrich feathers, wool, raw cotton, coffee, tobacco, cotton seed, cotton-seed oil in barrels, etc. A great deal more freight was offered than the ship could accommodate, and much was left in the barges after the “Burgermeister’s” hold was full. This freight comes from the interior, and was brought to the coast by rail, by river, and by bullock team; it does not represent the product of a section, but of a continent.... We were told on coming on board last night that an American and his wife had been added to the passenger list during our absence. I looked the man over, and at once offered to bet two to one that he was not an American. He wore a green hat, with the brim turned down all the way ’round. No American ever wore a green hat, or wore it with the brim turned down in that fashion. Besides, he smokes a pipe all the time, and carries a bag of tobacco attached to his belt; an English custom.... We lost nearly all of our friends at Mombasa. Many of the passengers are new, and we must start all over in becoming acquainted. Nine out of ten are Germans; there is an English line of boats plying on the East Coast, and the English prefer their own ships. Whoever travels out here will notice friction between the English and Germans.... In spite of every cabin on the ship being full, and in spite of the long delays in loading freight, the chief steward feeds us well; it is not too much to say that the food is as good as may be had on the best ships of the fine Atlantic fleet. While in port, we have so many visitors that we are crowded, but at sea, we settle down, and do very well.... There are several cases of the plague at Mombasa, but not much attention is paid to them. The plague is always a pest here, and occasionally it gets a big start; not long ago, Zanzibar was a closed port for six months, and visitors were compelled to remain there until the quarantine was raised. The Zanzibar hotel is a very bad one, and a good many of the visitors hired houses and cooks, and lived very comfortably.... Nearly all the natives of Mombasa are Mohammedans, and when we passed through the town just after darkness set in, it seems to me I saw thousands of men praying in the mosques. I have never seen a Mohammedan woman praying; with people of that faith, it seems to be the men who are religious. Among Protestants, you will find ten religious women to one religious man.... The old fort at Mombasa was once besieged thirty-three months, and when the garrison finally surrendered the victors found only eleven men and three women to butcher.... The Uganda State Railway begins at Mombasa, and runs to Lake Victoria, source of the river Nile. On the way is Niarobi, probably the most promising town in British East Africa. It was to Niarobi Sammy Marks was going, to open a new theatre. Nearly all the way to the lake, big game is constantly in sight from the railway carriages. Lake Victoria is the second largest in the world, only Lake Superior being larger. A trip of five days is provided on Victoria Lake, in large and comfortable ships, which are occasionally out of sight of land. It is in this section where ten thousand natives died within a year from the terrible sleeping sickness, which is so fatal that the government is now forcing the blacks to leave the infected district.... On the railroad to Victoria Lake is Tsavo station, where a pair of man-eating lions devoured thirty-three natives during the construction work. Colonel Patterson wrote a book about “The Man Eaters of Tsavo,” and its fame is worldwide. The terror of the native workmen on the railway finally became so great that work was suspended for a time. Then one of the engineers fixed up an iron cage, and spent five nights in it. The second night he shot one of the lions, another the third night, and the last one the fifth night. A good many hunters in Africa laugh at the Tsavo story as greatly exaggerated; indeed, I have heard it openly stated here that the Lion Lie is one of the greatest jokes in Africa. Every hunter, the African people say, takes home a fierce lion lie, and the world has come to believe thousands of big stories about these animals that are ridiculous.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 16.—At noon today we left Mombasa for Aden; no more stops for five or six days. Loading at Mombasa continued without interruption for eighteen hours, and when the colored laborers went away on barges, they cheered because of the completion of their long task.... Outside the harbor, we encountered the first motion of the voyage, and several of the passengers went to bed. The motion was not great, but it was the first we have had. We had been wondering what the “Burgermeister” would do in case of heavy weather, and found her specialty is a pitch. The pitch is far more agreeable than the roll.... We had been told by the captain to expect the hottest weather of the voyage between Mombasa and Aden, but found the weather cooler at Mombasa than at any other stopping-place, and at sea there were actually spots on deck that were too cool.... At Mombasa we took on an entirely new lot of deck passengers, and lost a number who greatly interested me. One was a negro boy of fourteen, whom a woman passenger was taking to Nairobi as a servant. She met him on the streets of Mozambique, and, being attracted by his fair promises, took him on board. The boy claimed to be able to speak five languages in addition to “Kitchen Kaffir.” This is a language which all Kaffirs understand, and it is the native language usually learned by whites. I have a notion that a half-savage boy of fourteen speaking five languages, speaks some of them very imperfectly.... The captain, or some one for him, has suppressed the six babies on board. Nearly all of them have male nurses, and these negro men, who are traveling on deck-passage tickets, almost monopolized the first-cabin deck. They had cribs and fences in which they confined their charges, and getting about was almost impossible. There was so much grumbling that the babies and nurses have been sent to the deck below, and we see no more of them, although we can hear them. The halls of the baby deck are encumbered with all sorts of nursing-bottles and other apparatus of that nature, and we are compelled to wade through it when we go to our rooms.... The lower class of Hindus are the filthiest people in the world, judging from what I see of them on the lower deck, where a good many of them are located as passengers. I cannot avoid seeing all their domestic arrangements, and their indifference to dirt is amazing. I notice that a good many of the negroes in Africa have adopted the Hindu religion, having learned it from the Indians, who come to the East Coast in great swarms. Religion naturally appeals to the negro, and he adopts any form of it which attracts his fancy. But the great bulk of the negroes on the East Coast are Mohammedans, having learned that doctrine from the Arabs who sold them into slavery. You would think the negroes would detest the Mohammedan religion and the Arabs, but they do not. Many of the natives who are unmistakably Africans, claim to be Arabs, and this evening I saw six Mohammedan negroes saying their prayers at the same time. They observed me watching them, and took particular pains to “show off.” One of them had a string of beads of the kind used by the Catholics, and I am certain that he had picked up this addition to his Mohammedan religion from the Catholics. All religions become badly mixed by their different forms appealing to other sects.... The orchestra played a concert on deck this evening, for the first time in several days; we have been so busy loading cargo that there was no time to think of music.... I find that we took on an American passenger at Mombasa; A. B. Hepburn, of the Chase National Bank, of New York, and Comptroller of Currency under President Harrison. He has been hunting in the Niarobi section, and told me he was the only one in his outfit who did not get the fever.