Back in the early '80's England and Germany resorted to every diplomatic device to acquire that great tract of country now known as German East Africa and British East Africa. The Sultan of Zanzibar exercised control of a strip of the coastline, ten miles deep, north of Portuguese East Africa to Italian Somaliland, which naturally blocked the development of the interior. The claims of the two great countries were finally settled by Germany getting the southern part of the domain and England the northern part. The Sultan of Zanzibar still claims sovereignty of the ten-mile shore strip of the Indian Ocean, but in reality it is gone from him. The authentic history of East Africa commences in 1498, when Vasco da Gama, the Portuguese explorer, anchored off Mombasa.

Mombasa, located on Mombasa Island, is the chief seaport on the East Coast north of Durban and Lourenzo Marques. It has had a checkered career, being held at various times by Persians, Arabs, Egyptians, Portuguese and British. To-day the blacks number 30,000 and the whites about 500. Like most tropical places, the surroundings are naturally attractive, but fever is always present, and bubonic plague or smallpox may break out at any moment.

Three years is the limit of residence here for a European. Some part of the human system is bound to give way if one does not leave before the three-year period expires. Two and a half years' residence and six months' vacation in Europe is the usual custom. The tropical climate seems to center its force on the muscles of the stomach, and this is one reason why every one wears flannel bands. Most of the business men are Asiatics. Natives take the place of horses here also, goods being moved on trucks pushed and pulled by black men. England's solid system of doing things is in evidence at every turn—notably in the good, clean streets, parks and docks.

Before the railroad was pushed to the eastern shore of Victoria Nyanza the daring Europeans of early days had to travel four months before the western terminus was reached. Nowadays two days' travel by rail will take one into the heart of Africa. The country then, as it is more or less to-day, was alive with ferocious beasts, and some of the native tribes were warlike. During the winter season there is no rain for a period of from four to six months. Only men of iron would tackle such a journey. The Arabs, however, had preceded the whites.

On the Uganda Railway we boarded a train for Nairobi. For some distance the road passed through a tropical growth, when we entered the Taru Desert. Small trees of dense and thorny spreading limbs grow on this land. The lower limbs are brashy and bare of bark, and the ones above are leafless and gnarled, although alive. The Taru Desert is a leafless jungle. No bird life was apparent save vultures, whose repulsive appearance seemed in keeping with the growth on which they rested. Fever trees were mentioned earlier in this Leg, and those growing here suggested the possibility of their exuding something noxious—if not odors leading to some form of fever, then, perhaps, to stomach trouble.

A lone native, and often groups, were seen, with only a clout about the loins, carrying a long pole with a spear fixed to the end, at the station or traversing a native path leading somewhere, as there were no signs of habitation near the railway. Erect, slender, bareheaded and barefooted, he looked every inch the savage warrior one reads about.

The track is meter gauge, three feet six inches, and the railway coaches, of two compartments, are small, each compartment accommodating six persons, 12 in all. The South African system—the best in the world—of providing free sleeping berths for passengers, has been adopted by the Uganda Railway Company. Four berths are provided in each compartment, but no bedding is furnished. Breakfast costs 32 cents, and luncheon and dinner 50 cents. Railway fare is only two cents a mile, and the speed 14 miles an hour.

"Dak bungalow" proved a new building term to us, and another was the "godown." The dak bungalow serves the purpose of a hotel and is located at stations. These were built by the railway company for the convenience of passengers living in isolated places who used a certain station when traveling. The bungalow, which may be used one night free of charge, is provided with spring beds, but no bedding. The godown is a freight shed—any building where goods or cargo are stored is called a godown. Both terms are Asiatic. It would be a risky undertaking to start through some parts of that country at night, as many sections are infested with wild beasts. The agents at the stations were Indians.

We were traveling over a section of country that had not been refreshed with rain for months. The soil being reddish, passengers' clothes resembled those worn by workers in a red brickyard. Conversations that had taken place between travelers during the voyage along the East Coast, of big game being seen within easy view of the railway in these parts, which swayed me from my original route at Zanzibar, were foremost in my mind at this point. Skeptical of feasting the eye on herds of zebra, gazelle, wildebeeste, even giraffe, and other game, my doubts were dispelled when a passenger remarked:

"This is Makindu, where nature's zoo starts." "Do you think the game will be close enough to see from the train?" "They're on the veld all the time—see the zebra to the right?" he replied. Turning quickly in that direction, there they were, a solid foreground of striped beasts, not more than half a mile off the railway. The marvelous sight of thousands of zebra within easy view extended to the horizon. "You'll always find zebras huddled closely together," he interestingly went on, "as they have an eternal fear of lions, who are partial to zebra flesh," he explained. "The hardest animal in Africa to tame is the zebra," he continued. "This animal can be ridden, and is sometimes attached to a light vehicle, but it cannot be trusted. The fear of lions has for ages been so firmly bred in the bone of this attractive beast that, no matter how kindly handled, its wildness is always evident.