We Were Roused By The Roar, As Of A Torrent,
Made By The Fire Coming From The Windward.
I immediately set fire
to that on our leeward, and had just time to drag the wagon
on to the bare space there before the windward flames reached the place
where it had stood.
We were detained by rains and a desire to ascertain our geographical position
till Monday, the 10th, and only got the latitude 9d 50' S.;
and, after three days' pretty hard traveling through the long grass,
reached Cassange, the farthest inland station of the Portuguese
in Western Africa. We crossed several fine little streams
running into the Quango; and as the grass continued to tower
about two feet over our heads, it generally obstructed our view
of the adjacent country, and sometimes hung over the path,
making one side of the body wet with the dew every morning,
or, when it rained, kept me wet during the whole day. I made my entrance
in a somewhat forlorn state as to clothing among our Portuguese allies.
The first gentleman I met in the village asked if I had a passport,
and said it was necessary to take me before the authorities.
As I was in the same state of mind in which individuals are who commit
a petty depredation in order to obtain the shelter and food of a prison,
I gladly accompanied him to the house of the commandant or Chefe,
Senhor de Silva Rego. Having shown my passport to this gentleman,
he politely asked me to supper, and, as we had eaten nothing
except the farina of Cypriano from the Quango to this, I suspect I appeared
particularly ravenous to the other gentlemen around the table.
They seemed, however, to understand my position pretty well,
from having all traveled extensively themselves; had they not been present,
I might have put some in my pocket to eat by night; for, after fever,
the appetite is excessively keen, and manioc is one of the most unsatisfying
kinds of food.
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