"I think, Mahomed," said I, "that there are as indifferent rascals, and just as big fools, in Somaliland as any other part of the world."
This morning I passed Gulaid Abokr's slim young wife, and noticed the baby she carried on her back was wearing a neat new "makran" on his arm. Said I to myself, "I wonder who pays the Yibir his fee for that makran—baby's father or I? I have my doubts." But baby's mother looked so happy, and smiled so sweetly, that I'll forgive Gulaid Abokr if he never pays me back.
[CHAPTER XIV]
THE ISLAND
The trip to the island—Fishing—Frenchmen, Greeks and Chinamen—Sharks and bêche-de-mer—El Kori.
"Is the boat ready, Buralli?" I ask the Somal sub-inspector of police.
"Ha! Sahib, it is ready."