I had ordered Monsoor to arrange a stake in the ground, with a large
nail driven in the top at right angles to form a rocket-stand. I now
asked Kabba Rega if he would like to see a rocket fired.
The idea delighted him, and a few rockets having been brought, together
with port-fires and blue lights, we exhibited the fireworks. There was
no wind, thus the rockets did no damage, as they were inclined towards
the north, in which direction there were no buildings.
Kabba Rega himself ignited a rocket with a port-fire, and although
rather nervous at the great rush of fire, he seemed interested at the
fact that a town composed of straw huts could be destroyed from a
distance . . . .
On the following morning, Umbogo, the dragoman, told me that the natives
had been very much frightened at the rockets, as they said, "the Pacha
was going to set the sky on fire."
The station was progressing rapidly. The soil was of such extraordinary
richness that the seeds sprang up like magic. On the third day after
sowing, the cucumbers, melons, pumpkins, and cotton seeds, showed
themselves above ground.
I had made a broad walk of red gravel from Kabba Rega's new divan, to
the government house.
