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. 
