The Rivulets Were So
Swollen That It Took Five Days To Do A Journey That Would Otherwise
Have Occupied Only Two Days And A Half.
None of the Manganja being willing to take them down the river during
the flood, three Makololo canoe-men agreed to go with them.
After
paddling till near sunset, they decided to stop and sleep on shore;
but the mosquitoes were so numerous that they insisted on going on
again; the Bishop, being a week behind the time he had engaged to be
at the Ruo, reluctantly consented, and in the darkness the canoe was
upset in one of the strong eddies or whirlpools, which suddenly boil
up in flood time near the outgoing branches of the river; clothing,
medicines, tea, coffee, and sugar were all lost. Wet and weary, and
tormented by mosquitoes, they lay in the canoe till morning dawned,
and then proceeded to Malo, an island at the mouth of the Ruo, where
the Bishop was at once seized with fever.
Had they been in their usual health, they would doubtless have pushed
on to Shupanga, or to the ship; but fever rapidly prostrates the
energies, and induces a drowsy stupor, from which, if not roused by
medicine, the patient gradually sinks into the sleep of death. Still
mindful, however, of his office, the Bishop consoled himself by
thinking that he might gain the friendship of the chief, which would
be of essential service to him in his future labours. That heartless
man, however, probably suspicious of all foreigners from the
knowledge he had acquired of white slave-traders, wanted to turn the
dying Bishop out of the hut, as he required it for his corn, but
yielded to the expostulations of the Makololo.
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