In the body of the boats crouched, sat, or lay a picturesque mob.  Some pulled spasmodically on the very long limber oars; others squatted doing nothing; some, huddled shapelessly underneath white cloths that completely covered them, slept soundly in the bottom.  We took these for merchandise until one of them suddenly threw aside his covering and sat up.  Others, again, poised in proud and graceful attitudes on the extreme prows of their bobbing craft.  Especially decorative were two, clad only in immense white turbans and white cloths about the waist.  An old Arab with a white beard stood midships in one boat, quite motionless, except for the slight swaying necessary to preserve his equilibrium, his voluminous white draperies fluttering in the wind, his dark face just distinguishable under his burnouse.  Most of the men were Somalis, however.  Their keen small faces, slender but graceful necks, slim, well-formed torsos bending to every movement of the boat, and the white or gaudy draped nether garments were as decorative as the figures on an Egyptian tomb.  One or two of the more barbaric had made neat headdresses of white clay plastered in the form of a skull-cap.

After an interval a small and fussy tugboat steamed around our stern and drew alongside the gangway.  Three passengers disembarked from her and made their way aboard.  The main deck of the craft under an awning was heavily encumbered with trunks, tin boxes, hand baggage, tin bath-tubs, gun cases, and all sorts of impedimenta.  The tugboat moored itself to us fore and aft, and proceeded to think about discharging.  Perhaps twenty men in accurate replica of those in the small boats had charge of the job.  They had their own methods.  After a long interval devoted strictly to nothing, some unfathomable impulse would incite one or two or three of the natives to tackle a trunk.  At it they tugged and heaved and pushed in the manner of ants making off with a particularly large fly or other treasure trove, tossing it up the steep gangway to the level of our decks.  The trunks once safely bestowed, all interest, all industry, died.  We thought that finished it, and wondered why the tug did not pull out of the way.  But always, after an interval, another bright idea would strike another native or natives.  He—­or they—­would disappear beneath the canvas awning over the tug’s deck, to emerge shortly, carrying almost anything, from a parasol to a heavy chest.

On close inspection they proved to be a very small people.  The impression of graceful height had come from the slenderness and justness of their proportions, the smallness of their bones, and the upright grace of their carriage.  After standing alongside one, we acquired a fine respect for their ability to handle those trunks at all.