IIO JOURNEY WITHOUT MAPS

maps, catching a clue here and a clue there, as I
caught the names of villages from this man and that,
until one has to face the general idea, the pain or
the memory. This is what you have feared, Africa
may be imagined as saying, you can't avoid it, there
it is creeping round the wall, flying in at the door,
rustling the grass, you can't turn your back, you
can't forget it, so you may as well take a long look.

A dog ran whining across the verandah, between
the dancers' legs, and off down the path to the con-
vent. Some instinct told it to keep moving; it
slathered and whined and ran; it had been bitten by
a snake. The sisters had called in a medicine man
who had poured medicine down its throat and tied
sticky charms to its legs, but these the sisters had
removed when the man had gone. It was still alive,
but it had to keep on running.

It wasn't so good when the dancers went. Neither
of us felt too happy; I couldn't help remembering C.
and Van Gogh. My cousin had been bitten all over
(if by mosquitoes, then malaria might easily find us
less than half-way through the forest). I had a rash
over my back and arms like the rash of chicken-pox.
I didn't feel so well: perhaps I had drunk too much
whisky. There did seem to be an air of sickness about
the prospect; Amedoo's lung and Van Gogh's fever
contributed to it. After dinner I went out to the last
pail-closet I should see before Monrovia; the wooden
seat, of course, was swarming with ants, but I realised
by this time that it was luxury to have a closet at
aU. We had discovered we hadn't enough lamps with
us. The boys needed both lamps while they were
washing up the dinner things, which meant that we