It has been remarked that what knowledge they have seems to come to these African children instinctively—for no one ever sees them taught, or chastised for not knowing! Certainly one wonders how they learn some things which the smallest children do quite easily. Twisting string, for instance, out of bark, or the fibre of the _bwazi_, the _sonkwe_ hibiscus, and other plants, is a thing which requires a certain knack, yet you see the whole population at it, when they have the materials handy, and nothing else to do—from the old grandmother sitting on the ground to have a chat with you, to the little boy or girl whose attention is found to be wandering in school. I imagine they must always have bunches of fibrous stuff secreted somehow about their persons. The process begins with rubbing a bit of it against one’s leg with the open hand—further than that, I cannot tell exactly what is done, or how they manage to twist two strands round each other without making the whole thing curl up, as it does when I try it. Having got a sufficient supply of string, the next thing is to make string bags—which is done by making a row of loops for the bottom of the bag, and working round and round, putting the end of the string through each loop to make a fresh row. Usually the end is fastened to a hen’s feather to make it go through easily. It is a kind of netting without the knot, and is often quite tastefully done in string of two colours. But the realities of life begin to make themselves felt. Girls get real babies tied to their backs instead of dolls, as soon as they are big enough to carry them. I have no doubt that this injures their growth less than dragging them about in their arms; and anyhow they are usually very cheerful about it. Then they have to fetch water, and, as soon as they are able, to help their mothers in pounding corn and hoeing in the gardens. The boys have an easier time—at ten, or so, perhaps earlier, they are set to herding the goats, and will start for the _dambo_ in the early morning, as soon as the kraal gate is opened, with their sticks, and, during the rainy season, an old worn-out shield to shelter under in case of a shower. They take a bit of cold porridge with them, done up in a leaf, or some roasted maize cobs, unless they are near enough to run home for the family meal a little before noon. Sometimes they make a fire in the _dambo_, and roast their maize themselves—or any small game they may have taken. They shoot small birds with arrows, or knock them down with sticks; they set various kinds of traps in the grass, and, if they can find the burrows (which are fairly common), they dig out field-mice (_mbewa_), which are considered a rare delicacy, and roast them as shown in the illustration. The various kinds of traps will be described more fully under the heading of Hunting and Fishing.