CAIRO TO KISUMU is to be the great port of this side of the continent. The larger harbour is called Kilindini, a word that means “the deep place.” It has only a few warehouse sheds and a pier above it, the main settlements being across the island four miles away.

It was in Kilindini that I landed, and that under diffi¬ culties. Our ship was anchored far out and our baggage was taken ashore in native boats. Finding the main quay was crowded, I had my boatman go direct to the custom house and let us out on the beach. The custom house is a little shed about big enough for one cow situated so high up above the water that our trunks had to be car¬ ried out upon the heads of the Negroes. The water came up to their middles, but nevertheless they waded through it and brought both us and our baggage to the land. The customs examination was lenient. The officers looked through our trunks for guns and ammunition and warned us that we could not hunt elephants and hippopotami without a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar license. A little later the natives again took our trunks and lugged them about a quarter of a mile to the top of a hill, where we got the cars for Mombasa.

The word “cars” savours of electricity or steam. The cars 1 took were run by men. Here in East Africa human muscle forms the cheapest power. The wages of the natives run from five cents a day upward, while in the in¬ terior there are many who will work eight or nine hours for three cents. The result is that the trolley cars are pro¬ pelled by men. Each car consists of a platform about as big as a kitchen table, with wheels underneath and an awn¬ ing overhead. In the middle of the platform there is a bench accommodating two to four persons. The wheels 238