CROSSING A RIVER

It is easy to talk about crossing a river and when I looked at the line on the map which represents that river I crossed. I am amazed that such a small thing should once have caused me such great fear. Yet I have rarely faced a job I liked so little as that one. The river ran yellow and slow under a clear moon. On this side a thick growth of bush clothed the river banks but on the other side I could see a swamp and tall grasses.

The distance across was no more than fifty yards but I would have swum a mile more readily in deep clear water. The place smelt of crocodiles. I prepared to enter the river . I held my gun between my teeth and with a prayer to God slipped into the muddy waters.