18
First Footsteps in East Africa.
no evening bell can compare with it for solemnity and beauty—and in the neighbouring mosque, the loudlyintoned Amin and Allaho Akbar—far superior to any organ rang in my ear. The evening gun of camp was represented by the Nakyarah, or kettle-drum, sounded about seven p.m. at the southern gate; and at ten a second drumming warned the paterfamilias that it was time for home, and thieves, and lovers—that it was the hour for bastinado. Nightfall was ushered in by the song, the dance, and the marriage festival—here no permission is required for "native music in the lines"—and muffled figures flitted mysteriously through the dark alleys.
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After a peep through the open window, I fell asleep, feeling once more at home.
