belt; during work it is tucked up, but on ceremonial occasions it must trail upon the ground.  The lieges wear European shirts, stuffed into a waist-cloth of cheaper material, calico or domestics; This Tanga, or kilt, is, in fact, an article of general wear, and it would be an airy, comfortable, and wholesome travelling costume if the material were flannel.  The ornaments are necklaces of Venetian beads, the white pound, and the black and yellow seed:  Canutille or bugles of various patterns are preferred, and all are loaded with “Mengo,” Grigris (which old travellers call “gregories"), or talismans, chiefly leopards’ teeth, rude bells, and horns.  The Monda are hunting prophylacteries, antelope horns filled with “fetish” medicines, leopard’s hair, burnt and powdered heart mixed with leaves, and filth; the mouths are stopped with some viscid black stuff, probably gum.  They are often attached to rude bells of iron or brass (Igelenga, Ngenge, Nkendo, or Wonga), like the Chingufu of the Congo regions and the metal cones which are struck for signals upon the Tanganyika Lake.

A great man is known by his making himself a marvellous “guy,” wearing, for instance, a dingily laced cocked hat, stuck athwart-ships upon an unwashed night-cap, and a naval or military uniform, fifty years old, “swearing” with the loin-cloth and the feet, which are always bare.

The coiffure of the Greek is peculiar and elaborate as that of the Gold Coast.  These ladies seem to have chosen for their model the touraco or cockatoo,—­they have never heard of “Kikeriki,”—­and the effect is at first wondrously grotesque.  Presently the eye learns to admire pretty Fanny’s ways; perhaps the pleureuse, the old English corkscrew ringlet, might strike the stranger as equally natural in a spaniel, and unnatural in a human.  Still a style so peculiar requires a toilette in keeping; the “king” in uniform is less ridiculous than the Gaboon lady’s chignon, contrasting with a tight-bodied and narrow-skirted gown of pink calico.

The national “tire-valiant” is a galeated crest not unlike the cuirassier’s helmet, and the hair, trained from the sides into a high ridge running along the cranium, not unfrequently projects far beyond the forehead.  Taste and caprice produce endless modifications.  Sometimes the crest is double, disposed in parallel ridges, with a deep hollow between; or it is treble, when the two lines of parting running along the mastoids make it remarkably like bears’ ears, the central prism rises high, and the side hair is plaited into little pig-tails.  Others again train four parallel lines from nape to forehead, forming two cushions along the parietals.  The crest is heightened by padding, and the whole of the hair is devoted to magnifying it,—­at a distance, some of the bushwomen look as if they wore cocked hats.  When dreaded baldness appears, rosettes of false hair patch the temples, and plaits of purchased wigs are interwoven to increase the bulk: