Even had we been able to
afford the room I should not have carried more; for I am convinced that
in the bush a man can keep his health better, and do more work, when he
leaves liquor entirely alone.
CHAPTER III
THE JOURNEY BEGINS
The week's rain had made the roads in a terrible state, where dust had
been there was now a foot or so of soft mud, and the ground, which had
been hard and clayey, was now so sticky and slippery, that it was not easy
travelling for the camels. We passed several camps of Afghans, squatting
miserably under huge tarpaulins, waiting for the roads to dry before
starting their caravans, loaded with stores for some distant district.
There are one or two things that camels are quite unable to do, according
to an Asiatic driver; one is to travel in wet weather. However, Europeans
manage to work camels, wet or fine; the wily Afghan says, "Camel no do
this," "Camel no do that," because it doesn't suit his book that camel
should do so - and a great many people think that he MUST know and is
indispensable in the driving of camels; which seems to me to be no more
sensible than to say that a chow-dog can only be managed by a Chinaman.
There is, perhaps, a small amount of risk in travelling in wet weather,
for when a camel does slip he does so with a vengeance; each foot seems to
take a different direction and thus, spread-eagled under a heavy load, he
might suffer a severe strain or even break a bone. Redleap fell once, but,
happily, neither hurt himself nor the load.
The winter had caused a transformation in the appearance of the bush;
everywhere little patches of green grass or saltbush could be seen, and
wherever a teamster had stopped to bait his horses, a miniature field of
oats had sprung into life. How we hoped that the rainfall had extended
towards the interior!
If only we could have started sooner, we should have benefited by the cool
weather for a great part of the journey. But though the days were warm
enough, there was no doubt about the coldness of the nights. Our blankets
were white with frost in the mornings, and our canvas water-bags frozen
into a solid mass. My thermometer registered 17 degrees F. just before
dawn on the coldest night. Unhobbling the camels and loading them was
freezing work, during which our fingers were quite numbed. Shivering, we
walked along until the sun was above the trees, then in a little its rays
warmed to their work, and we would peal off now a coat, now a jersey or
shirt, until in the middle of the day the heat was too great to be
pleasant. Poor little Val hated the cold nights, and, as I always sleep
away from a fire, she used to crawl into my blankets and lie up against
my back, which was quite pleasant for both of us.
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