“WHAT did you find out, Dad?” inquired Bob late that afternoon. Mr. Holton had just returned from the railroad station of the Uganda Railway.
His father smiled happily.
“There is a train leaving tomorrow morning,” he said. “From all accounts we’ll be the only passengers on it.”
“I don’t mind that,” came from Joe. “But, say, Mr. Holton, what does the train look like?”
“You’ll be surprised,” smiled Mr. Lewis.
“Perhaps you’ll tell us just where it will take us,” said Bob.
“All the way to Lake Victoria,” his father returned. “We’ll spend a day or so looking around there. Then we’ll organize a safari and plunge into the jungle.”
There was a little time left before darkness would close over them. Bob and Joe used it to further explore Mombasa and see its inhabitants.
They found that the city was situated on an island several thousand acres in extent. There was a channel that divided it from the mainland, spanned by a causeway. In the old section of the city the chums found many things of interest in the way of odd native huts, curious carvings, and the native market. The new section contained a number of attractive homes in which lived Europeans and Americans.
“And there seem to be representatives of all races here,” remarked Bob, when they returned to the hotel. “Whites, blacks, browns—all colors.”