-64 
June 21 - 
Up early, and off on our last bush trip - this time headed 
for the Polish Plantation® 
We left our house about half -past seven, with a big DIamond-T 
truck ahead of us carrying forty boys and our gear, and Chancellor's 
pick-up carrying more gear and our personal boys® The truck drove 
so slowly that we dawdled along the way ourselves, stopping at 
Woerman* s No® 8, Watson's house in Kakata, Henry Cooper's house hear 
Sal ala, and did not reach Sal ala Until almost noon. There we found 
Commissioner Watson, who grudgingly gave us a pass, made out to 
Chancellor, not to us, for three days only at the p ant at ion. 
Watson had one of his men bring a big monkey-eating eagle, and offered 
to sell it, but we did not want to buy it on the way up-country and 
said we would see about it when we returned® 
Sal ala was swarming with people, for this is the last day of 
a week's conclave of district chiefs. Messengers kept coming up 
to the Commissioner while we were talking to him, and we heard one 
soldier say "But he killed the woman* " W® explained that a man had 
been arrested and thrown into jail for attempting to murder his wife; 
whereupon he escaped from jail, went back and finished the job, and 
then vanished into the bush. 
Prom Salala we set out on foot, hut it was noon and the sun 
was hot, and we did most of the trip in hammocks • Just before 
reaching Reputa we stopped on a shady hank by the river to eat our 
lunch. While vie ate I was nervously eying the bridge over the river,* 
it was high, and the stream broad, and it looked as though it would 
be unusually difficult for me who hate these native bridges® Our 
carriers went over, stepping giigsrly from pole to pole, but some of ] 
them after starting would turn around and wade the river instead. 
We watched our movie camera equipment carried across, with the boy 
sweating under the heavy load® Another boy was in the middle of the 
bridge, when suddenly * a whole section of it, perhaps thirty feet, 
gave way with a crash, and fell in a jumble of rotten logs fifteen 
feet into the water. When we got our breath, we called out to the 
boy to ask if he were still alive® He picked hi self up, rescued 
his load, put it on his head, and scrambled over the debris safely 
to shore. It was not even one of our boys® With more than forty of 
our own natives, it was a complete stranger who had the mishap® Our 
hammocks had to come back to our side of the river, and carry us 
across, wading waist-deep through the water. 
Prom Reputa it is a forty-five minute walk to the Plantation. 
We had been told that there was a caretaker there with keys, but it 
took three hours to find him, while we sat on the verandah surrounded 
by our baggage, and admired the encircling, jungle-covered hills® 
This plantation was started about eight years ago, subsidized 
by Poland, presumably with the idea of settling a Polish colony here. 
The men they sent out were not agriculturally minded, and although 
they p 1 ant ed a good many acres they knew little or nothing about 
the cocoa-raising which they were supposed to be doing. When Germany 
invaded Poland they abandoned the farm as quickly as they could get 
transportation back to Europe, and it has been deserted ever since. 
