have neither guns, sporting licenses, nor permits for ammunition. The
guns were perfectly safe in the government godown--would not be
tampered with--would be returned to us when we chose to leave the
country.

"But, good God, we've paid duty on them!" Oakes protested.

"You should not have brought the guns with you unless you desired to
pay duty," said the Goanese.

"But where's the collector?" Yerkes demanded.

"I am only assistant," was the answer. "How should I know?"

The man's insolence, of demeanor and words, was unveiled, and the more
we argued with him the more sullen and evasive he grew, until at last
he ordered us out of the office. At that we took chairs and announced
our intention of staying until the collector should come or be fetched.
We were informed that the collector was the most important government
official in Mombasa--information that so delighted Fred that he grew
almost good tempered again.

"I'd rather twist a big tail than a little one!" he announced. "Shall
we sing to pass the time?"

The Goanese called for the askari,* half-soldier, half-police-man, who
drowsed in meek solitude outside the office door.

----------------
* Askari, soldier.