On Sunday Morning,
As I Was Setting Off In Search Of Him, I Found Him Near The Wagon.
He Had Found The Oxen Late In The Afternoon Of Saturday, And Had Been Obliged
To Stand By Them All Night.
It was wonderful how he managed
without a compass, and in such a country, to find his way home at all,
bringing about forty oxen with him.
The Bechuanas will keep on the sick-list as long as they feel any weakness;
so I at last began to be anxious that they should make a little exertion
to get forward on our way. One of them, however, happening to move
a hundred yards from the wagon, fell down, and, being unobserved,
remained the whole night in the pouring rain totally insensible;
another was subjected to frequent swooning; but, making beds in the wagons
for these our worst cases, with the help of the Bakwain and the Bushmen,
we moved slowly on. We had to nurse the sick like children;
and, like children recovering from illness, the better they became
the more impudent they grew. This was seen in the peremptory orders
they would give with their now piping voices. Nothing that we did
pleased them; and the laughter with which I received their ebullitions,
though it was only the real expression of gladness at their recovery,
and amusement at the ridiculous part they acted, only increased their chagrin.
The want of power in the man who guided the two front oxen,
or, as he was called, the "leader", caused us to be entangled with trees,
both standing and fallen, and the labor of cutting them down was even
more severe than ordinary; but, notwithstanding an immense amount of toil,
my health continued good.
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