1930-09-11 — Page 10

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THE CHINA MAIL.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1930.

MOTORISTS THIS IS YOUR PAGE

cycle at all. I was tired, dis- couraged, and after each spill felt more and more convinced that the passing of a decade had de prived me for ever of the neces

NEVER TO SERVE THE TWO WHEELS ACROSS AFRICA. MOMENT AT THE EXPENSE OF THE HOUR

INTREPID MOTOR CYCLIST'S EAST-TO-WEST sary skill. Little did I guess that,

7

NEVE

TEVER to serve the moment at the expense of the hour" is an old Vacuum Oil Company

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Therefore in the manufacture of Gargoyle Mobiloil we have been animated by a clear sense of our Fesponsibility to the public.

We have made Mobiloil to serve best rather than to sell cheapest; to be reliable and to return to the consumer the largest possible usefulness for his invest-

ment.

Vacuum, has grown to be the greatest name in the oil industry, not by brilliant manoeuvre, but by expressing everyday recognition of its responsibility in products of a quality to protect that good name— one of which is Gargoyle Mobiloil.

Each year in increasing measure, consumers of lubricating oil have been responsive to Vacuum responsibility.

A recent impartial survey reveals a preference for Gargoyle Mobiloil greater than for any three "com- petitive brands of motorcar engine lubricating oil, combined.

This préference is confirmed by Gargoyle Mobiloil sales last year, the volume and value of which out. stripped any year in history.

Quality, Value, and Service - this trinity the motorcar owner has made his own.

That is why it is more than ever true, this year as for twenty years past, that more people use Gargoyle Mabiloil than of any other three kinds of motorcar engine lubricants combined.

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JOURNEY.

[By Louis Kraft.]

Among the most adventurous tales of motoring in Africa must be numbered those loid in Cape Town by Mr. Louis Kraft, a Johannes burg journalist, who used Mobiloil throughout. Mr. Kraft arrived from Sierra Leone on board the Bompito, after riding by motor-cycle from Johannesburg to Nairobi, and from there right. across the continent to Lagos.

:

In the article below Mr. Kraft tells the story of his trip as far as Arusha. Next week he will conclude his story by describing his stirring experiences in the dense jungleland, and on the fringes of

the Sahara desert.

case

a

Several times I found myself among natives who spoke language I had not been instructed about. In that

I would resort to signs, grins and noises, and amidst general laugh- ter my meaning would suddenly dawn on them.

Before attempting to give you a, "Where is the nearest white man?" fairly coherent summary of my and "Is this the way to ." 7,000-mile journey through Africa on a solo motor-cycle. I'll be well advised to imagine that you would Hke me to answer a few questions. Nearly everyone I have met during my trip has asked me one or more of the following questions:

"Why did you do it?" "How about food and petrol?" "How did you find your way?" "Did you have any trouble with the natives?"

"How did you converse with them?"

A

"Did you have any unpleasant encounters with wild animals?

"Where did you sleep?" I believe that number of people would willingly forestall me in my answer to question' No. 1, and declare that no sane person would undertake such a journey on a motor-eycle, alone, and that the man who does it is mad, I undertook this journey because wanted to see the lakes, Kiltman- jaro, game, the equatorial forest, raw natives, famous rivers; be- cause I wanted to see and feel what I had read about. I chose a motor-cycle "because it is much cheaper to run than a car; and went alone because the perfect companion was not visible.

I never worried about food, I used to carry the usual assortment of tinned stuff, tea, sugar and bis cuits, but very soon I learned that the proximity of a native village meant an abundance of eggs, milk, chickens, ground nuts, honey.

Petrol 7a 6d. A Gallon. Except on one occasion, I never ran more than 200 miles without finding petrol. Between Fort Rose bery and Abercorn I paid as much as 5s. 6d. per gallon, and at Fort Archambault and Fort Lamy 45 much as 78. 6d.

·

I found my way by the simple process of inquiring before begin- ning a day's, or a two days', run. I had no map, as the information gleaned from the local official, trader or missionary is much more reliable and up-to-date than any- thing that can be gathered from a map, probably a couple of years old. I never got lost, and only once did I take the wrong turning and drive six miles out of my way. I never had any trouble with the natives. Although I travelled alone through ten countries and had dealings with a large number of tribes all temperamentally different, I found the natives en- thusiastic and helpful or indiffor ent and apathetic, but I remember only two cases of a refusal to obey, and in both instances the refusal was neither sullen nor insolent. The raw native, who nurses no grievance and is at peace with the authorities is a, wonderful chap.. hospitable, helpful and very polite. Some of their salutes are very amusing, and before I had time to get accustomed to one gesture I would find myself among, people who greeted me in a new and some times baffling fashion. In South ern Tanganyika they would clap their hands. They would shade their eyes with their arms as if my brilliance was too much for them. Or they would shake their fist at me. This was no threat buta salute. In Nigeria they went down on their knees, and dear Kano they would even prostrate themselves In the dust...

Seven Essential Words.

If I had known a native dialect, or even one of the important trade languages like. Swahili, Sango, or Hausa, it would have been of use for a short time only. I know none; nevertheless, I overcame the Innguage difficulty. Whenever "I met white man I would inquire about the dialect used in his dia- trict, and fot down on a scrap of paper "seven words and two sen- tances. The words wars: - Good

Į day, water, mlik, eggs, push, pull, I wait. And the sentences were;

I never saw any lions during the whole trip, although local people warned me against them almost every day. In Kenya I drove past a spot where 14 lions had been scen the previous day, but although it was 5.30 p.m.-a very favourable time I saw nothing. I met a leopard four miles from Fort Archambault, but I was not alone then.. An American missionary was

there; he killed the beast. The snake Wes le38 elusive than the lion. I saw many, and came in actual contact with two; a black mamber over which I ran and which hit my leg as it swung back, and a cobra which contemptuously spat on me.

Except on two occasions, I spent the night in rest campa, missions, district officers' houses, native vil lages, and, whenever possible, in hotels. Twice I camped by myself in the bush. Although nothing ac- tually happened, 1 should not like to do it again. I would doze off near the fire, wake up with a start, and hastily throw more wood on the dying embers.

a few months later, I would. And myself on the edge of the desert, racing gaily through 800 miles of sand without suffering a single spill.

"Leave The Gun." steep and bumpy Mies Hills I After driving up and down the

reached Victoria Falls the vious year, and trucked Zambesi River to Livingstone, a machine without delay across the

distance of seven miles. I put up

pre- my

!

holding a piece of paper. My pre- sence had been reported to tho farmer who kindly sent me a note inviting me to have dinner with him and to make myself comfort-

able on the verandah: I accepted the latter proposition and spont the night, in the Oriental. fashion, on a dozen cushions, strewn of the floor.

On "The Great North Road", " The day after I reached Broken Hill I visited the Mulungushi dam,

which supplies the lead and tin mines with electric power. The. samo road lends to the golf course, which had been visited quite re- cently by unwelcome visitors in the shape of four lions. The

golfers!

at the hotel. Before I had finish-beasts were killed by the angry ed talking to the managereяs a man came up to me and, pointing towards the big Mauser pistol which hung at my side, he asked with a sneer: "What's that for?" -One could see that he was not quite sober, so I told him good- humouredly that I was travelling through Africa on a motor cycle. "Fancy yourself an explorer?" he said. "Take my tip, leave the gun. You'll never need it."

"I hope I won't," I replied; "but, still, it may come in handy."

He repeated, with growing irritation, what he had already said, and I left him, laughing In- wardly at his angry optimism.

It certainly would have been sheer folly to venture forth with- out a weapon.

Nevertheless, the

man's unreasonable outburst was a kind of prophecy. If he had supported his statement with the offer of a bet, and I had assented, I would have lost.

Forty miles from Broken Hill the Mulungushi River used to flow through a narrow fissure only 75 feet wide. Five years ago, this was blocked, not with a carefully erected wall, but simply by blast- of the river. The water is led by ing the adjoining rocks in the bod

means of a canal seven miles long deep, at the bottom of which lies to a canon nearly a thousand feet

into the gorge is made by means the power station. The descent

of a small skiff along a gradient very near the vertical; an exciting experience.

Was

Forty-four miles

north of Broken Hill I came to a standstill In front of a signboard pointing to the right. I read the romantic name: "Great North Road." So, here was the beginning of a 1,500- mile trail, and the end Nairobi.

~According to my experience, one From Livingstone to Broken Hill of the, pleasures of road travel is the road was good except the first this sudden meeting in the bush 25 and the last 30 miles. Most of with the name the time the track ran parallel then only visited in one's dreams. of a locality till with the railway line, and even i The encounter is always unexpect- when the latter was visible I knew ed: with a shock of delight the that it could not be far away. traveller realises that, at last, he The railway line is the brightest is within reach of a particular spot of all companions, and given to the on this planet which, if luck had. motorist a false but wonderful not favoured him, would be no feeling of security. Much later, more than a sign on a map or a when I undertook to travel a dis- chapter in a tance of 2,700 miles between one Nairobi, Fort Archambault, Kano, book. Abercorn, railhead and another, I quickly Jinja or the Nile, Jebba or the forgot the very existence of Niger, these names became realf- Stephenson's invention, but during ties all of a sudden, not when I the early part of my journey the proximity of the railway line was time I read the words on a sign- saw them, but when for the first

a great comfort.

board.

As thousands of South Africans have visited

One evening feeling tired and the Victoria Falls, unwilling to drive after sunset, I and many have made the journey camped within' alght of a home | by road. I will say next to nothing stead, so as to make an all-night, about-the first thousand miles of fire unnecessary. After a light my venture. The road from Bula meat of cocoa and tinned "stuff, I wayo to Wankle is very sandy in lay back on my ground sheet and parts, and my clumsy struggles recomposed myself to sleep, but a minded me that for the last. 11 slight noise made me look up and years I had not ridden a motor in the semi-darkness I saw a hand

THE NEW

AIRFLIGHET

PRINCIPLE TIRES

BY

I took the road to the left. to- warda Ndola. I wanted to see the Rhodesian copper belt and Elisabethville. I would rejoin the Great North Road at Kasama.

"Little Paris in the Bush.”

I drove through Bwana Mkubwa, Ndola, Roan Antelope, Muliashi and Nechange. Of all these mines, (Continued on Page 11.)

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CITA PERI