Cheraw chronicle. [volume] (Cheraw, S.C.) 1896-2005, 1922-03-09
WHERE sun KILLS
Heat In Tropical Desert Fatal to
European.
Garments Lined With Red Material
Must Be Used by Traveller In the
African Bush.

In the tropical bush desert the sun
can kill you In matter of minutes
fatally impairing your nerve system
and your mind.
The nomad of the desert goes about
without head cover; when he does wear
it. 1t is only for ornament or to keep
him a bit cooler. His light turban,
worn by you, would lead to the most
serious illness or death.
The European protects himself
against the sun In the desert as care
FULLY as the invalid In our latitude
wraps himself against chill on severe
winter day; with the same care,
though in different fashion.
The feet, legs and lower body, In
boots, ieggings and light short trous-
ers, look after themselves; 1t Is the
parts where the sun can do vital DAM
age that need watching. The back is
protected by a wide, thick spinepad,
lined in strong red-the color that
counteracts the deadly "violet" rays.
The efficient helmet has large red
lined flap covering the back OF the
neck-another vulnerable spot-and
the helmet itself, thlckly made, and
domed high to leave space between the
interior and the top of the head, Is
also heavily lined with red. Some,
cheap gear often, are lined with fancy
green and other colors. Red Is the
only color-security against even head
ache in the hotter hours Of the shade
less bush Of the equator.
There Is one time, however, during
which man, of whatever race or how
soever clothed, must In the real bush
desert give way before the almighty
power Of the sun-the three midday
hours.
Inside the double-roofed canvas tent
set up an hour ago the white official,
his midday meal of beef and timed
vegetables just finished, wipes his
brow and, removing boots and leg
girgs, stretches out on the camp bed
close by.
WEAKNESS is coming over him after
the long five hours march from sun
rise. He pulls his helmet over his eyes
and drowsily looks down beyond his
nose through the open flat Of the tent.
A strange air Of quiet has come over
the midday camp. Up till half an hour
ago all was the usual tumult and noise
that is part of his life twice day
when camp Is "made"-camels snarl-
ing and bubbling as they knelt to be
off-loaded-syces chanting monotonous'
Iy while at work on the baggage
pickets being posted-servants shout
ing and whistling.
Now all is changed. The profound
quiet, intensifying each moment, Is not
merely due to things having settled
down.
Outside there the squat bush shad-
ows have shrunk to their shortest; the
sunlight, yellow all morning, has
turned q CHASTITY white. The camp
square is deserted; those bushes, each
with q brown camel-mat slung over It,
shows where the restless figures have
retreateo while.
The camels themselves have ceased
to stray about; in the thin checkered
shade Of that grazing thorn over yon-
der they are standing still save for the
flicking of q tail as they languidly
chew the cud. Even the hornbill bird,
melancholy songster Of the wilds, has
ceased its mournful chant. The last
breath of the morning wind has faint
ed away; not a twig moves; not an
insects murmuring note Is heard
around the shadowless scrub trembling
in the haze.
1t is as though the world about were
suddenly hypnotized. 1t is. In that
pyramid of binding rays at this belly
of the world all nature is struck in
swoon-the earth, man, beast and
every living thing therson-in the
binding storm Of heat and the white
horror Of the midday sun.