Again the night passed away. Once more the march. Though weak and ill,
and for two nights without a moment's sleep, I felt no fatigue, but
mechanically followed by the side of the litter as though in a dream.
The same wild country diversified with marsh and forest! Again we
halted. The night came, and I sat by her side in a miserable hut, with
the feeble lamp flickering while she lay as in death. She had never
moved a muscle since she fell. My people slept. I was alone, and no
sound broke the stillness of the night. The ears ached at the utter
silence, till the sudden wild cry of a hyena made me shudder as the
horrible thought rushed through my brain that, should she be buried in
this lonely spot, the hyena - would disturb her rest.
The morning was not far distant; it was past four o'clock. I had passed
the night in replacing wet cloths upon her head and moistening her lips,
as she lay apparently lifeless on her litter. I could do nothing more;
in solitude and abject misery in that dark hour, in a country of savage
heathen, thousands of miles away from a Christian land, I beseeched an
aid above all human, trusting alone to Him.
The morning broke; my lamp had just burned out, and cramped with the
night's watching I rose from my low seat and seeing that she lay in the
same unaltered state I went to the door of the hut to breathe one gasp
of the fresh morning air.
