ADVENTURES ON MT. MIKENO — 219 
manner we managed a satisfactory job in everything 
but one particular. The camera boy had come down 
but the tripod carrier never appeared. If it had been 
an ordinary camera the loss of the tripod would have 
made little difference, but it was the moving-picture 
camera, and a moving-picture camera without a 
tripod is useless. 
It was well past mid-afternoon when the skin and 
bones were ready to move to camp. 
As I worked I had kept wondering how we were 
ever to get up out of the chasm, especially with the 
added burdens we had acquired. I am still wonder- 
ing how we did get out. The “human fly” was no 
more remarkable than those black boys. My heart 
was in my mouth for an hour watching them work 
their way up the almost perpendicular wall of that 
chasm with the skin and skeleton. We got to camp 
just before dark in a pouring rain, and I am free to 
confess that during the last hour I several times 
doubted if I should get in. It was beyond doubt the 
toughest day I ever spent. Never again—not for all 
the gorillas and museums in the world. I spent the 
next day in camp working on the two specimens—the 
female and the baby that had been speared—and 
finally had three beautiful gorilla skins all safe under 
the fly of my tent. They were so well assorted that 
they would make a very satisfactory group if I got 
no more. I had death masks of each and skeletons 
of the two old ones; but the four-year-old, a vigorous 
young male, I pened with infinite care and pre- 
served the entire carcass with formalin and salt—a 
