From London, Ali and Sakari accompanied me to my home in Scotland. They were made comfortable in an adjoining outhouse, and allotted a suitable place to make a camp-fire outdoors, where they delighted to sit and cook their meals in natural fashion. Here, again, their pleasure in everything new afforded constant amusement. Scotland does not lack for water. The river Tay, flowing near the house, was a feast indeed for eyes that well knew the drawbacks of an arid land, and the dreadful thirst of the desert. And the two natives were content to sit for hours, lost in contemplation of the swiftly flowing perpetual water that would represent unbounded prosperity if only it could be transported to their own land. But this worship of water had its drawbacks when Ali made the gleeful discovery that all he had to do to get water in the house was to turn on a tap. Thereafter we caught him, repeatedly, standing wrapt before the scullery sink with taps full on watching to see: “If them water be fit ever go run dry.” When it rained thoughts always veered to the Sahara, and more than once Ali remarked: “Allah send plenty rain for this country, and so He go forget the desert all the time. “Suppose Sahara fit look this rain all the people catch plenty food.” During the first morning at home I took the two natives on to the golf-course. For a little time they walked, feeling the closely knit turf under their feet, then they dropped to their knees and ran their hands over the grass, looking about them with delight. “Ki! All be grass, master! All the ground find him plenty good. The eye sees not sand anywhere; not even between the blades.” “Here be plenty plenty food for _Rakumi_” (camels). “In the desert this be all sand for sure, and no grass. So, so, all time Allah give plenty good things for this country.” On another occasion I took them out to look on while ferreting rabbits. I had also my retriever with me. When the first rabbit was shot, however, there was no need to send the dog to fetch it, for there was a wild scramble on the part of both the boys, who reached the “bunny” together, and straightway proceeded to cut its throat in true Mohammedan fashion. A second rabbit was treated in the same way, and then the two worthies were quite ready to set off home. Half an hour later, while the rabbits were still warm, I found my followers beside their camp-fires in the yard with their prizes skinned and pierced on sticks, roasting before the blaze. This was their idea of _a real feast of fresh meat_, and the first they had had an opportunity of enjoying to the full since they had landed in the country. But they were never difficult to please with food, and their usual dish, eaten twice a day, about 11 a.m. and again in the evening, consisted usually of butcher meat mixed with rice, potatoes, cloves, nutmeg, and plenty of olive oil. This strangely seasoned mixture was of their own choosing and was: “Sweet past food for Kano.”