250 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES. 



in shelter. We waited silently, puffing away at 

 our pipes. 



The roaring increased in volume. Beneath it 

 we began to hear the long, rolling crash of 

 thunder. Overhead the stars, already dimmed, 

 were suddenly blotted from existence. Then 

 came the rain, in a literal deluge, as though 

 the god of floods had turned over an entire 

 reservoir with one twist of his mighty hand. Our 

 fire went out instantly ; the whole world went out 

 with it. We lay on our canvas cots unable to see 

 a foot beyond our tent opening ; unable to 

 hear anything but the insistent, terrible drum- 

 ming over our heads ; unable to think of anything 

 through the tumult of waters. As a man's body 

 might struggle from behind a waterfall through 

 the torrents, so our imaginations, half drowned, 

 managed dimly to picture forth little bits the 

 men huddled close in their tiny tents, their 

 cowled blankets over their heads. All the rest 

 of the universe had gone. 



After a time the insistent beat and rush of 

 waters began to wear through our patience. We 

 willed that this wracking tumult should cease; 

 we willed it with all the force that was in us. 

 Then, as this proved vain, we too humped our spir- 

 itual backs, cowled our souls with patience, and 



