200 AFRICA SPEAKS 



a while. I had nothing to eat for six days, and on the 

 sixth day of this fast I received a bunch of letters from 

 home. One of them from my wife contained a kodak 

 picture of a picnic in the mountains. In the same 

 letter she went into detail — in fact, too much detail 

 — concerning the fried chicken, shrimp salad, choco- 

 late cake, and ice cream. When the nurse made her 

 rounds about two hours later, I succeeded in talking 

 her into serving me a small cup of beef broth and 

 one small cracker. 



After returning to Kapsabet, I was still very weak 

 and rested as often as possible in order to regain my 

 strength. One hot afternoon I lay dozing on my cot 

 in the hut, hstening to the song birds and insects out- 

 side and trying to picture in my mind what would 

 confront us on the journey which we would soon 

 attempt across Africa. My boy, Juma, came in to 

 Bay that two white men and two white women were 

 out in our yard looking at the lion cub. We see very 

 few white faces in this country, so I at once strolled 

 out to extend greetings. As soon as I took a look at 

 the visitors, I knew they were missionaries. 



Walking up, I introduced myself and immediately 

 one of the women started to tell me how cruel she 

 thought it was to keep a poor Httle lion cub in a cage. 

 I explained to her that it didn't belong to us, that we 

 were simply taking care of it for a friend. It had 

 everything it needed in the way of food and was per- 

 haps better off with us than out in the jungle, and as 

 far as we knew it was perfectly happy, for we had 

 heard no complaints. I noticed the taller of the two 

 men had a pecuhar gleam in his eyes, and now he 

 suddenly wheeled on me, pointed his finger straight 



