We stopped the boat. It was a sandy shore; the banks were high, and a
clump of mimosas grew above high-water mark. It was there that we dug
his grave. My men worked silently and sadly, for all loved Saat. He had
been so good and true, that even their hard hearts had learned to
respect his honesty. We laid him in his grave on the desert shore,
beneath the grove of trees.
Again the sail was set, and, filled by the breeze, it carried us away
from the dreary spot where we had sorrowfully left all that was good and
faithful. It was a happy end - most merciful, as he had been taken from
a land of iniquity in all the purity of a child converted from Paganism
to Christianity. He had lived and died in our service a good Christian.
Our voyage was nearly over, and we looked forward to home and friends;
but we had still fatigues before us: poor Saat had reached his home and
rest.
On the following morning, May 6, 1865, we were welcomed by the entire
European population of Khartoum, to whom are due my warmest thanks for
many kind attentions. We were kindly offered a house by Monsieur
Lombrosio, the manager of the Khartoum branch of the "Oriental and
Egyptian Trading Company."
I now heard the distressing news of the death of my poor friend Speke.
