Day
Broke, And It Was A Relief To Have Got Rid Of The Brutal Escort.
They
had departed, and I had now my own men and the guides supplied by
Kamrasi.
There was nothing to eat in this spot. My wife had never stirred since
she fell by the coup de soleil, and merely respired about five times in
a minute. It was impossible to remain; the people would have starved.
She was laid gently upon her litter, and we started forward on our
funereal course. I was ill and broken- hearted, and I followed by her
side through the long day's march over wild park lands and streams, with
thick forest and deep marshy bottoms, over undulating hills and through
valleys of tall papyrus rushes, which, as we brushed through them on our
melancholy way, waved over the litter like the black plumes of a hearse.
We halted at a village, and again the night was passed in watching. I
was wet and coated with mud from the swampy marsh, and shivered with
ague; but the cold within was greater than all. No change had taken
place; she had never moved. I had plenty of fat, and I made four balls
of about half a pound, each of which would burn for three hours. A piece
of a broken water-jar formed a lamp, several pieces of rag serving for
wicks. So in solitude the still calm night passed away as I sat by her
side and watched. In the drawn and distorted features that lay before me
I could hardly trace the same face that for years had been my comfort
through all the difficulties and dangers of my path.
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