While we were driving towards the next village twenty miles away, we all were perturbed about the rough road except Bruce. It was not that Bruce always underestimated difficulties. He simply had no sense of danger at all. No matter what the condition were, he believed that a car should be driven as fast as it could possibly go. As we bumped over the dusty track, we swerved to avoid large boulders. The wheels scooped up the stones which hammered ominously under the car. Because of this, we had such an idea that a stone might rip a hole in our petrol tank or damage the engine. This made us keeping looking back, wondering if we were leaving a trail of oil and petrol behind us. Our first obstacle was a huge fissure which extended for fifty yards and was two feet wide and fourt feet deep. Even though were all worried about it, Bruce was not in the least perturbed for he went into a low gear and drove at a terrifying speed, keeping the front wheels astride the crack as he followed its zigzag course. While the village was only fifteen miles away, we were faced with the second obstacle, a shallow pool of water about half a mile across. As our oil had been used up, our car came to a grinding halt in the middle of the pool.
