PLATEAU OF THE PAGANS 409 



For the first fifty miles we kept ahead of the storm, 

 but after dark the trucks began slipping and sliding 

 around. It was evident that a heavy rain had fallen 

 just ahead of us, so we stopped to put on chains, then 

 continued onward until the second truck sank into a 

 sand pit in the bottom of a river bed. It required 

 three hours to dig out of this place, during which time 

 some passing natives informed us there was a large 

 village two days' foot safari westward. In high hopes 

 of reaching this place by morning we again started, 

 but after traveling about fifteen miles through sticky 

 mud, my truck dropped into a deep hole. It was pos- 

 sible to spin all wheels by hand and two hours of 

 strenuous labor failed to help matters; so once again, 

 between midnight and dawn, we lay down to sleep in 

 a cheerful swamp, where we found a large colony of 

 mosquitoes, every member of which was at home. We 

 had recently armed ourselves with a supply of cit- 

 ronella oil, which the trader guaranteed would keep a 

 mosquito at his proper distance, but we must have 

 secured the wrong brand, for their songs of glee had 

 never been so jubilant as upon this occasion. 



The mosquitoes made sleep impossible, so before 

 dayhght, Joe set out on foot to summon help. Some 

 hours later, as I was walking around in an attempt 

 to evade the mosquitoes and reflecting with consider- 

 able bitterness on the vicissitudes that had beset oiu* 

 trucks for the last few weeks, I heard the strains of 

 martial music swelling on the morning air. Presently 

 came the occasional neigh of a horse, then the sound 

 of hoofs on the trail, and soon the throbbing of drums 

 and the shrilHng of fifes — or whatever they were — 

 making a sound resembling the skirl of Scottish pipes. 



