I Remembered Gold Mines, And Broad Prairies, Indian Councils, And Much Experience In The New Western Lands.

I remembered the shock it gave me to hear after my return from a barbarous country of the calamity that had overtaken the fond man whom I called father, and the hot fitful life that followed it.

Stop! ************

Dear me; is it the 21st of July? Yes, Shaw informed me that it was the 21st of July after I recovered from my terrible attack of fever; the true date was the 14th of July, but I was not aware that I had jumped a week, until I met Dr. Livingstone. We two together examined the Nautical Almanack, which I brought with me. We found that the Doctor was three weeks out of his reckoning, and to my great surprise I was also one week out, or one week ahead of the actual date. The mistake was made by my being informed that I had been two weeks sick, and as the day I recovered my senses was Friday, and Shaw and the people were morally sure that I was in bed two weeks, I dated it on my Diary the 21st of July. However, on the tenth day after the first of my illness, I was in excellent trim again, only, however, to see and attend to Shaw, who was in turn taken sick. By the 22nd July Shaw was recovered, then Selim was prostrated, and groaned in his delirium for four days, but by the 28th we were all recovered, and were beginning to brighten up at the prospect of a diversion in the shape of a march upon Mirambo's stronghold.

The morning of the 29th I had fifty men loaded with bales, beads, and wire, for Ujiji. When they were mustered for the march outside the tembe, the only man absent was Bombay. While men were sent to search for him, others departed to get one more look, and one more embrace with their black Delilahs. Bombay was found some time about 2 P.M., his face faithfully depicting the contending passions under which he was labouring - sorrow at parting from the fleshpots of Unyanyembe - regret at parting from his Dulcinea of Tabora - to be, bereft of all enjoyment now, nothing but marches - hard, long marches - to go to the war - to be killed, perhaps, Oh! Inspired by such feelings, no wonder Bombay was inclined to be pugnacious when I ordered him to his place, and I was in a shocking bad temper for having been kept waiting from 8 A.M. to 2 P.M. for him. There was simply a word and a savage look, and my cane was flying around Bombay's shoulders, as if he were to be annihilated. I fancy that the eager fury of my onslaught broke his stubbornness more than anything else; for before I had struck him a dozen times he was crying for "pardon." At that word I ceased belaboring him, for this was the first time he had ever uttered that word.

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