FEVER A T THE L A S T MOMENT ! 297
chants. Strolls through the town in the evening were
agreeably refreshing after the heat of the day had passed
and the gentle winds swept up from the sea. We wandered
in the groves of the tall palm forest which covered the
landward expanse, and back again to the church, where the
military band played, and the social circles of the town
revolved.
Congratulations were freely bestowed upon us when it
became known where we had been, from whence we had
come, and—mirabile cUetu !—that neither of us had suffered
a day’s illness from fever.
Five days passed and then, sure enough, the S.S. Dwnheld,
Captain Broadfoot, came to an anchor in the estuary.
Eeclining in an easy chair I read the latest news. Cholera
at Marseilles and details of the black Soudan business. To
me a newspaper was like food to a hungry man. Ease was
not my lot, however. A burning sensation came over me,
and I felt as though I would be consumed with the heat of
the body. I was fairly caught. At the very last moment here
was the fever ! Oddly enough its attack began on the very
day, and within a few hours of embarkation. I cannot
further tax the reader’s patience with an account of the long
and lingering illness which followed.
“ Come along ; pull yourself together; the boat is at the
quay ! ” were the words with which young Mr. Miller of the
African Lakes Company encouraged my departure.
But a brief time elapsed, and I found myself lying on a
sofa in a deck cabin of the DmJeeld, where Captain Broadfoot
gave me every kind attention he could, and continued
to do so during the trip.
While reposing here there fell upon my ears many sounds
of other days, such as the jingle of knives, forks, and
spoons, and the whirling of plates and dishes, varied by a