To a large heap of rice add the following: MEAT AND FISH Spiced beef, deviled soup meat, both fried with cocoanut shreds.
Minced pork, baked.
Fried fish, soused fish, and baked fish.
Fried oysters and whitebait.
SPICES Red fish.
Deviled shrimps, chutney.
Deviled pistachio nuts.
Deviled onions sliced with pimentos.
Deviled chicken giblets.
Deviled banana tuft.
Pickled cucumbers.
Cucumber plain (to cool the palate after hot ingredients).
FOWL, FRUIT, ETC.
Roast chicken, plain.
Steamed chicken with chilis.
Monkey nuts fried in paste.
Flour chips with fish lime (called grapak and kripak).
Fried brinjals without the seeds.
Fried bananas.
JUICES Yellow--( One) of curry powder with chicken giblets and bouillon.
Brown--( Two) of celery, haricot beans, leeks and young cabbage.
One quart of American pale ale to drink during the "rice tafel." Our cook Abdullah was not the only interesting type in our _safari_.
Among our dusky colleagues there were thirteen different tribes represented.

It was a congress of nations and a babel of tongues.

Some of the porters became conspicuous figures early in the march, while some were so lacking in individuality that they seemed like new-comers even after four months out.
[Drawing: _The "Chantecler" of Our Safari_] Of this latter class Hassan Mohammed was not one.
Hassan was my chief gunbearer, and for pious devotion to the Mohammedan faith he was second to none.

He was the "Chantecler" of our outfit.
Every morning at four o'clock, regardless of the weather, he would crawl out of his tent, drape himself in a white sheet, and cry out his prayers to Mecca.

It was his voice that woke the camp, and the immediate answer to his prayers was sometimes quite irreverent, especially from the Wakamba porters, who were accustomed to sit up nearly all night gambling.
Hassan was a Somali, strictly honest and faithful.