most savage jungle you can
imagine. There was only one motor car in Kep and this I hired for the
journey. I say hired, but bought would be nearer the truth. It was an
aged and decrepit Renault, held together with string and wire, and
suffering so badly from asthma and rheumatism that more than once I
feared it would die on my hands before I reached my destination. It had
as nurses two Annamites, who took unwarranted liberties with the truth
by describing themselves as _mechaniciens_. Accompanying them were two
sullen-faced Chinese. All four of them, I found, proposed to accompany
me to Pnom-Penh. At this I protested vigorously, on the ground that, as
the lessee of the machine, I had the right to choose my traveling
companions, but my objections were overruled by the _Chef des Douanes_,
the only French functionary in Kep, who assured me that if the car went
the quartette must go, too. One of the Annamites, he explained, was the
chauffeur, the other was the cranker, for in Indo-China automobiles are
not equipped with self-starters and the chauffeurs firmly refuse to
crank their own cars. They thus "save their face," which is a very
important consideration in the estimation of Orientals, and they also
provide easy and pleasant jobs for their friends. It is an idea which
some of the labor unions in America might adopt to advantage. I make no
charge for the suggestion. The two Chinese, it appeared, were the joint
owners of the machine, and both insisted on going along because neither
would trust the other with the hire-money. Thus it will be seen, we
made quite a cozy little party.

The road to Pnom-Penh, as I have already remarked, leads through a
peculiarly lonely and savage region. And it is very narrow, bordered on
either side by walls of almost impenetrable jungle. A place better
adapted for a hold-up could hardly be devised. And of the reputations
or antecedents of my four self-imposed companions, I knew nothing. Nor
was there anything in their faces to lend me confidence in the honesty
of their intentions. As we were about to start a native gendarme
beckoned me to one side.

"Beaucoup des pirats sur la route, M'sieu," he warned me in execrable
French.

"Brigands, you mean?" I asked him.

"Oui, M'sieu."

That was reassuring.

"How about these men?" I inquired, indicating the motley crew who were
to accompany me. "Are they to be trusted?"

He shrugged his shoulders non-commitally. It was evident that he did
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