{189} It Was A Long Time Ago, Kiva
Said, But These Folks Have No Definite Way Of Expressing Duration Of
Time Nor, Do I Believe, Any Great Mental Idea Of It; Although Their
Ideas Are, As Usual With West Africans, Far Ahead Of Their Language.
All the goods were brought up to my hut, and while Ngouta gets my
tea we started talking the carrier palaver again.
The Fans received
my offer, starting at two dollars ahead of what M. Jacot said would
be enough, with utter scorn, and every dramatic gesture of dissent;
one man, pretending to catch Gray Shirt's words in his hands, flings
them to the ground and stamps them under his feet. I affected an
easy take-it-or-leave-it-manner, and looked on. A woman came out of
the crowd to me, and held out a mass of slimy gray abomination on a
bit of plantain leaf - smashed snail. I accepted it and gave her
fish hooks. She was delighted and her companions excited, so she
put the hooks into her mouth for safe keeping. I hurriedly
explained in my best Fan that I do not require any more snail; so
another lady tried the effect of a pine-apple. There might be no
end to this, so I retired into trade and asked what she would sell
it for. She did not want to sell it - she wanted to give it me; so I
gave her fish hooks. Silence and Singlet interposed, saying the
price for pine-apples is one leaf of tobacco, but I explained I was
not buying.
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