We were seven days on the way between Efulen and Batanga, including a Sunday on which we rested. I was a convalescent, having recently been sick with a very severe fever that had kept me in bed for more than a month, and I was still weak. Indeed, the reason for hurrying to the coast at this time instead of waiting for the dry season was chiefly my need of a physician. The first day I walked four hours very slowly and could do no more; but my strength increased greatly on the way and we walked further each day. On that journey we had to use the cutlasses very often to clear the road so as to make it passable; and one day we found the road so flooded that we were obliged to leave it and for several hours we cut our way through the matted undergrowth where there was no road; but it was very slow work. That same day Dr. Good, in jumping over a muddy place, lighted on a slippery stick that was hidden beneath the surface and fell headlong. I was following so close behind that I was already in mid-air when he fell; and, of course, I tripped over him and fell too. For a few seconds at least we were a sorry sight. There was a stream near by, however, and we washed away the portion of German territory that clung to us, and made a presentable toilet. But Dr. Good had fallen on a projecting root and had hurt his side quite badly. It was like him to say nothing about it until, as we stood at the stream, I observed that he was pale. Then he told me that he had hurt himself and that there was a pain in his side. He thought that a band tied around his waist would relieve him; so I peeled a strip of bark four inches wide from a tree and tied it tight around him, over his coat, making a bow at his back. Considered æsthetically it left much to be desired, but it served the purpose. He walked with difficulty the first hour or two; then the pain gradually subsided, and although he was bruised, it occasioned him no further trouble.