| caption: |
bitterly cold night at camp |
| text: |
When we got up the grass was again covered with frost. Never in my life have I been as continuously cold as during these nights. Already before the camp comes to life I wake up from the cold and when Nlamo comes into the tent at half past five shivering and teeth chattering and lights my lamp it is even more of an effort to climb out of bed and get dressed, but all keep strictly to the early morning shave which has at least a diadactic purpose and spares the individual from the confrontation with stubble-bearded faces over breakfast in the icy cold hut, which usually is open on one side. |
