Page:Travels in West Africa, Congo Français, Corisco and Cameroons (IA travelsinwestafr00kingrich).pdf/646

 and then, while the others are putting up the fire-house, head man and I get out the hidden demijohn of rum, and the beef and rice, and I serve out a tot of rum each to the boys, who are shivering dreadfully, waiting for cook to get the fire. He soon does this, and then I have my hot tea and the men their hot food, for now we have returned to the luxury of two cooking pots.

Their education in bush is evidently progressing, for they make themselves a big screen with boughs and spare blankets, between the wind and the fire-house, and I get Xenia to cut some branches, and place them on the top of my waterproof sheet shelter, and we are fairly comfortable again, and the boys quite merry and very well satisfied with themselves.

Unfortunately the subject of their nightly debating society is human conduct, a subject ever fraught with dangerous elements of differences of opinion. They are busy discussing, with their mouths full of rice and beef; the conduct of an absent friend, who it seems is generally regarded by them as a spend thrift. "He gets plenty money, but he no have none no time." "He go frow it away on woman, and drink." "He no buy clothes." This last is evidently a very heavy accusation, but Kefalla says, "What can a man buy with money better than them thing he like best?"

This philosophic outburst from Kefalla is followed by a wordy war on the innate worthlessness of woman and drink, the details of which I will not give, but presently there is an extra row, and Cook rushes to me, holding in one hand the cooking pot, into which I find I am expected to shove my nose, and then to sniff at his abominably dirty singlet. Kefalla comes hurrying after him talking sixteen to the dozen. It seems that during the discussion of a particularly knotty point on practical ethics, Kefalla fell out with Cook, and seizing his rum and water, threw it at him, and what has not gone over Cook has gone into his supper in the pot. Cook displays a lively horror of the Smell of rum in his rice, which is, coming from him, a bit comic. I call up head man, who is as usual not attending to his duty of keeping the others in order, and we two talk the palaver and decide, in spite of Kefalla's specious arguments, that he is to pay Cook for both