“Aye, I see well how it has happened unto you. You lay on your backs rotting in camp, and have been brooding and thinking until the jiggers have burrowed into your brains, and Shaitan has caused you to dream of evil and death. You became hardened in mind, and cruel to your own bodies. Instead of going to the little masters, and telling them of your griefs and fears, you have said Mambu Kwa Mungu--it is God’s trouble. Our masters don’t care for us, and we don’t care for them. “Now, Ferajji, you are a head man, tell me what cause of complaint in particular you have. Did the white men ill-treat you?” “No, they treated me well; but they were hard on some of the men.” “How hard, and on whom?” “On the Zanzibaris, and if they were not _chap-a-chap_ (active).” “But what did they wish to be _chap-a-chap_ for? Had you important work to do?” “No, for when the steamer went away there was little to do. Only fixing the earth work, sweep camp, cut fuel, and stand guard at night. But the _goee-goees_ (lazy or useless) would not come when called. Then the white men got impatient, and would call again louder. Then the _goee-goees_ would come slowly--lazily--little by little, and say they had pains in the head, or in the body, back, chest, or feet. Then the masters would get angry, and say it was shamming. Every day it was the same thing.” “But how could sweeping camp, getting fuel, and standing guard be hard work for 250 people?” “It was no work at all.” “Was anybody else punished except the _goee goees_?” “No one except the thieves.” “Did you have many of them?” “I think all the thieves of Zanzibar joined the ‘journey-makers’ this time.” “That cannot be, Ferajji, because we had some thieves with us, and there must have been a few left on the coast.” The audience laugh. Ferajji replied, “That is indeed truth, but we had a great many. Brass rods, cowries, and garments were lost daily. Zanzibaris accused Soudanese, Soudanese accused Somalis, Somalis accused Zanzibaris, and so it went round. Nothing was safe. Put anything under your pillow, roll it under the sleeping-mat, bind it tight, and make it into a headrest, and lo! in the morning it was gone! Indeed, I became afraid my teeth would be stolen next.” “But those white teeth of yours are not purchased, are they, Ferajji?” “No, thank Allah, they were born with me, but those who thrive on thieving may well be feared.” “That is true, Ferajji; but why should they have stolen all the time?” “Hunger made them steal. Hunger killed the strong lion in the fable, and hunger will kill the best man.” “Hunger! what are you talking of. Hunger, with all those fields of manioc near here?” “Manioc, master! Manioc will do for a time, but manioc with sauce is better.” “Sauce! I don’t understand you, Ferajji?”