A DRAMATIC EPISODE 299 



That night, after hours of climbing through 

 great forests and across grassy slopes gay with 

 countless varieties of beautiful and strange flowers, 

 we pitched our camp on a wind-swept height eleven 

 thousand feet up. The peaks of the mountain rose 

 high above us only a mile or so farther on. 



When the night fell the cold was intense, and we 

 huddled about the camp-fire for warmth. Around 

 each of the porters' camp-fires the humped-up na- 

 tives crouched and dreamed of the warm valleys far 

 below in the darkness. I suppose the cold made 

 them irritable, for just as we were preparing to 

 turn in there suddenly came a succession of screams 

 from one of the groups screams of a boy in mor- 

 tal terror. The sounds breaking out so unexpect- 

 edly in the silent night were enough to freeze the 

 blood in one's veins. I never heard such frantic 

 screams like those that might come from a tor- 

 ture-chamber. 



One of the porters had become infuriated by one 

 of the totos small boys who go along to help 

 the porters and had started in to beat him. The 

 boy was probably more frightened than hurt, but 

 the matter was one demanding instant punitive ac- 

 tion. So Abdi immediately inflicted it in a most 

 satisfying manner. 



Once more the silence of the mountain fell upon 

 the camp, but it was hours before the shock to one's 

 senses could be forgotten. I never before, nor never 

 again expect to hear screams more harrowing or 

 terrifying. 



