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friendly comradeship that we had enjoyed amid the misty hills of Surrey seemed to evaporate as though they had never existed.
     
    This is not to say that we did not remain kind to one another or that we no longer worked together as a coherent team, but that on our disembarkation from our long voyage, which lasted over a month, a sense of strain, a waiting expectancy and -eventually- a covert watching for something, had replaced the easy companionship of the earlier months. We disembarked in dismal conditions of tropical heat, we engaged porters, we started for the interior.
     
    Further weary weeks passed; weeks in which heat, insects and petty pilfering among the porters were our principal worries I am at liberty to say that we bordered Tibet but from there onwards nothing would induce me to reveal our destination We pushed ahead for weeks more, the weather becoming cooler as we rose higher among the foothills. The lush, semi-tropical vegetation was giving way to more arid landscapes in which rock, ice-cold mountain streams and ancient beds of volcanic ash abounded. The colder weather was, of course, a relief after the sticky heat of the plains and we benefited greatly from this.
     
    The four tractors behaved well and we were able to maintain an average speed of about 10 miles an hour on the mountain tracks, which was exceptionally good for this type of terrain. In fact so impressive was the performance that I once overheard Scarsdale praising Van Damm’s design capabilities to his face. Looking back on it all I often wonder if something was not assisting nature to draw us inexorably forward to our sombre destination. Who knows? Certainly, a pulsing rhythm, which seemed to have a life of its own was the drum-beat which underlined the thin, high scream of the dynamos which propelled us forward daily, ever higher, ever onwards, ever towards the dark, menacing line of the distant mountains. There, Scarsdale said, we should pay off our porters and establish a provisional base at the ancient city of Zak.

Five
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    We reached Zak on September 1st and there, with much haggling and grumbling the porters were paid off. I, will describe this old walled town with its Moorish-style architecture at some length a little later. For the moment we were tired with our long journey and the constant pull of the levers over the mountain trails induced a sort of sickness in those of us who had been driving. We were able, naturally, to rest at periods during the day, as we had to halt frequently to allow the porters to catch up with us, but nevertheless it was a blessed relief to learn that Scarsdale intended to stay here a week.
     
    We would be able to enjoy fresh fruit and vegetables again as the people of this high plateau had conditions necessary for husbandry and were renowned in the area for the quality of their provisions. We would need to conserve our strength also, for the first of our tests was before us. In a small and necessarily brief council of war the Professor held in his command tractor on the evening of our arrival, he informed us that we would be setting out across the desert to Nylstrom, the last inhabited place before we jumped off into the unknown.
     
    This was no less than 200 kilometres away and I looked at the Professor with something approaching awe; for had he not told me something of his previous explorations in this area? And, if I had heard him aright, he would at that time have been proceeding on foot. Even with the help of the porters who had remained on the mountain and who were no doubt familiar with the desert, it was a formidable achievement. I remembered Robson’s friend and his talk of the Professor’s ‘hikes’; formidable indeed. I looked at him again with even greater respect, if that were possible.
     
    For the next few days we enjoyed such amenities the town was able to offer. We lived in the tractors, of course, but were able to supplement our somewhat monotonous tinned diet with