The natives
cast a glance at the sudden figure of a white man, and seemed
petrified for a moment, but then, recovering themselves, they
shrieked out, "Bana, bana, you don't know us. We are Wakonongo,
who came to your camp to accompany you to Mrera, and we are
looking for honey."
"Oh, to be sure, you are the Wakonongo. Yes - Yes. Ah, it is all
right now, I thought you might be Ruga-Ruga."
So the two parties, instead of being on hostile terms with each
other, burst out laughing. The Wakonongo enjoyed it very much,
and laughed heartily as they proceeded on their way to search
for the wild honey. On a piece of bark they carried a little
fire with which they smoked the bees out from their nest in the
great mtundu-trees.
The adventures of the day were over; the azure of the sky had
changed to a dead grey; the moon was appearing just over the
trees; the water of the Gombe was like a silver belt; hoarse
frogs bellowed their notes loudly by the margin of the creek;
the fish-eagles uttered their dirge-like cries as they were
perched high on the tallest tree; elands snorted their warning
to the herds in the forest; stealthy forms of the carnivora stole
through the dark woods outside of our camp.
