244 AFRICA SPEAKS 



The balance of the day was spent with Mr. J. L. 

 Gates of Colombo cocktail fame. He was East 

 African manager for the Vacuum Oil Company, and 

 I was happy to learn of the arrangements which had 

 been completed, whereby I would pick up gasoUne 

 and Mobiloil at Arua, Buta, Bangui, Fort Archam- 

 bault, and Maidugari. These points were hundreds 

 of miles apart, but, by carefully planning the loads, 

 it would be possible to carry enough to get us through 

 from one depot to another. 



When we again reached the Tsavo River we found 

 the bridge missing. This meant either a several-hun- 

 dred-mile detour or that we must build a new span. 

 We found some boys loafing about and put them to 

 work, constructing, after several hours labor, what 

 we thought to be a passable bridge. But the car got 

 stuck in the middle when the front wheels pushed the 

 crosspieces ahead of them and dropped into the hole. 

 It was late at night when we gained the Nairobi side, 

 and after a simple repast of herring and beans, washed 

 down by a Httle hot tea, we spread our blankets on the 

 warm ground. Looking up at the marvelous sky, 

 wherein miUions of bright stars twinkled and danced, 

 I remarked to Mike about the beauties of the African 

 night. His answering comment was that he had started 

 out, years ago, to count these stars, but that the darn 

 things kept increasing in number and moving about 

 so fast that he finally gave it up as an impossible 

 imdertaking. 



Before dropping off to sleep, I recalled to mind 

 the thrilling story of the man-eaters of Tsavo; of 

 their nightly kills of human beings; of how they 

 would drag their screaming victims out of bed, the 



