mkingsleyA terrific tornado which has been lurking growling about then sits down in the forest and bursts, wrapping us up in a lively kind of fog, with its thunder, lightning, and rain.  It was impossible to hear, or make one’s self heard at the distance of even a few paces, because of the shrill squeal of the wind, the roar of the thunder, and the rush of the rain on the trees round us.  It was not like having a storm burst over you in the least; you felt you were in the middle of its engine-room when it had broken down badly.’

 From Travels in West Africa by Mary Kingsley  published in 1897

 

To read an excerpt of my trip to Cameroon please click here