OUR RACE TO PARADISE 33 



For five days we relayed oiir stuff back to Archer's 

 Post. Osa was a brick. Few women could have 

 stood the hundred miles a day of struggle with the 

 spirit and courage she did. We were both worn out 

 when it was over. 



Now my boys began to get ill. I sent back several 

 Meru who were in a bad way. A few more deserted. 



March 29th found us plugging northward again, 

 now across the Kaisoot desert on a more familiar 

 trail to Lake Paradise, one which we had worked out 

 for ourselves on our first visit some years before. 

 When our cars stuck, it was a case of dig and swear, 

 load and unload, haul and push, from dawn until 

 midnight. One night millions of grasshoppers in- 

 vaded us. Next morning we foimd the camp black 

 with the remains of those which we had trampled 

 down. 



On April 2 we struggled into Kampi ya Tempr, the 

 government boma or station. Here we fotmd 

 Lieutenant Harrison, a young Englishman with 

 twenty-five Askaris who had been stationed in this 

 god-forsaken spot for seven months. The place con- 

 sisted mostly of a few mud huts and a little cattle. 



'While we were having lunch a black fellow came 

 up and saluted, addressing Osa and myself by name. 

 He turned out to be an old friend of a former expedi- 

 tion, a native named Boculy, whom I had been trying 

 to trace ever since we had landed. We called the 



