there, H. 1990 October 31 (continued) in bright white clouds and framed by green montane forests in the foreground - our porch view. I read some of Walt Whitman's Civil War poetry - Who! - and worked on my snake book. Mid-afternoon we lapsed into a discussion of our toilet. It is a large, sturdy wood shed w/ wood roof and floor and walls and an open door on the front; a rectangle ~10x25 cm through which to shit; and a board cover w/ upright pole handle that the paper slides down on. One squat deeply, and Jens has been complaining of it. I found that holding the cover a few cm off the floor by its handle in front of me as a counterweight helps my balance! We are all mystified that so much wood goes into such a large shed, to incompletely surround such a small hole - why not some of that material for a one-hole platform? Jens brought ~10 extra baseball caps of various brands and colors, and mid-afternoon he suddenly began passing them out to African workers - our cooks, etc. This proves a problem - there isn't enough to go around, and soon everyone in the vicinity is hounding us for a cap. Tom let us each take a couple of captured poacher spears (Vincent had told us of the cache), and one of mine is a bicone w/ a float, made from a piece of large diameter cane or bamboo, at the back end - used for hippos. Earlier Tom and Jan had their houseboy bring us a packet of Halloween treats.