FAREWELL TO AFRICA 423 



that a rear axle was broken. This, of course, was a 

 minor matter; all we had to do was send for a new 

 one — to Detroit, Michigan! We towed the truck to 

 the stream and established ourselves at what was later 

 named Dismal Camp. 



Because some bright individual at the factory had 

 failed to include a wheel puller in the tool kit, it took 

 the balance of the day to remove the broken axle. 

 It was twisted apart, near the gear, and we found, upon 

 inspection, that it had been holding together by a mere 

 tlu-ead for a long time. 



Next day Jones and I returned to Jos in -the other 

 truck, finding that a heavy rain had preceded us, 

 totally wrecking our crude bridges. After toiling for 

 the entire day to negotiate the intervening twenty- 

 seven miles, we had reached the town at dusk. Upon 

 arrival, I cabled my wife, for she had not heard from 

 me for nearly four months, nor I from her. My mes- 

 sage said that I was very well, and so I was that 

 evening, but the next morning they carried me to the 

 hospital, with my second bad attack of fever. 



Now, after three days, Jones reported that he had 

 fashioned an axle on the lathe at the tin mine; so, 

 although still weak, I accompanied him to Dismal 

 Camp next morning. The balance of the day was 

 spent in refitting the axle and then we found the 

 clutch was broken, making it impossible to change 

 gears. We returned to Jos once more to repair the 

 clutch, and, upon attempting to reach Dismal Camp 

 again, encountered another heavy storm which deluged 

 the plateau, making our last journey long and difiicult. 



Then came days of misery, of heartbreaking toil; 

 futile hours spent in pouring ram, fighting tlirough 



