| caption: |
Chapter seven. Reconnaissance |
| text: |
However, hailstorms or no, the films I had planned to use from November onwards were sitting untouched in Haflong. It was time to get on with the job. I set off at once to bring out the rest of my gear. But I hadn't reached the top of the pass on the way to Asalu when down I came with fever, and after a hideous march I fell into bed in the camp there with my first real illness. |
| text: |
To my impotent fury, the men were broken reeds. The cook had more hysterics. He stamped and raved in the hut when I wouldn't be carried in. Namkia, on whom I was dependent for nursing, went out and got drunk. When I painfully whispered that I was really bad, and wished he'd stay within call, he said : " Oh, take some medicine and get better ! " and walked off home. I was so blazing angry I spent my lucid intervals that night in rehearsing what I'd say to him if I lived till morning; and when morning came, and with it Namkia, I rose on my pillows, launched what must have sounded like a dying curse, and then fell back in a semi-coma. It scared the daylight out of him. He nursed me loyally all the rest of the time. |
