She wanted me to bring her a snake.  A snake?  Whatever in the world for?  Well, to eat, of course.  (Silly me, why didn't I think of that?)  And what if we don't see any snakes for sale along the road?  Would she like a rat?  Or a porcupine?  She wasn't picky.  She would take any kind of bush meat.  Except a type of wild cat.  OK.  No cat.  We'll keep out eyes open for a snake though.  (The things people ask us to do!)

So on the way back from the village, about 15 miles before we arrived back in Yaounde, we found her meat.  No snake.  Sorry.  But it was a type of antelope.  The hunter was just standing along the highway, holding it up high by it's front legs.  Head flopped over to the side.  We quickly pulled over to the side of the road, backed the car up, and started bargaining.  Got him down to 8.000 F.  

Was she ever thrilled!  When she got home from work that day, she quickly contacted her two brothers, her neighbors, and her friends from church.  And then she set about skinning, gutting, and cooking her wonderful bush meat.  What a feast they had.

Us?  We were just grateful to not be on her invitation list.  "Thanks for not thinking of us, Doris.  We love you.