ground so long that this particular was a matter of indifference.
My pillow consisted of jacket and hat rolled
together.
Since we had left the last village the sun had seemed to
strike home to my brain, and mile after mile I had trudged
on with my teeth firmly set, not venturing to sit down, for
that would have ended the march, and necessarily I had to
get food for the Angoni. I could not conceive what trouble
had overtaken me. At first I thought it was the beginning
of fever, for there were indications that some poison in my
system was now asserting its presence. But I soon came to
the conclusion that it could not he fever, for perspiration
flowed from every pore, while the most acute pains shot
through every fibre of my body.
I had no liquid spirits; but I recollected that in the
medicine chest, about as big as an octavo volume, there was
a small phial of sal volatile. I was at a stage when eau de
Cologne would have been quaffed with avidity.
When I looked around nobody was awake. The boys
had gorged themselves and were lying in heaps, with their
senses wandering in dreamland. I was ill, irritable, and
cross, and felt as though I must break something; but
strength was only in the thought. Mara’s head was the
nearest object, but any effort upon such a cranium would
have proved a failure.
I managed to creep over to where the bundles lay, and
ripping up the innumerable bark strappings that wound
round the sack, succeeded in bringing to the light of the
fire the bottle of sal volatile. By the uncertain flicker of
the expiring flame I could see the large label marked S.Y.,
but in the bottle there was nothing to back up the printed
lie : the stuff had leaked out—every drop of it. Enough !
I can say no more of that miserable night.
Although weak and racked with nocturnal tortures, my
agonies had vanished in the morning. Overpowering heat,
over-fatigue, and bad food had no doubt been the principal
cause of the troubles. Starvation and draughts of hot
water helped to cure, but made me feel like a “ left-off ”
man.
The walkover the rocky hill that lay between us and the
mission-station had no charms for me in such a condition,
for the frame revolted at the slightest effort. Seeing a few
canoes lying on the beach, I made up my mind to paddle
round the point. The bargain was made, and the water
bailed out of the diminutive craft—a scooped-out tree in
a very leaky condition. The Angoni ranged up the rocky
breast of the mountain, while Mara and myself in the
primitive “ dug-out ” with the guns, from which I had never
parted, shoved off, and found ourselves floating upon the
smooth waters of Nyassa.
As we drew near to the mission-station of Livingstonia,
crowds of people—in the midst was a man with a red
umbrella—were seen coming down to the beach. The bows
of the small canoe glided upon the sands of the long-
looked-for shore, and I stepped out with the carefully
cherished letter of greeting in my hand.