About him ever since we received the
newspapers at Ugunda, when we read that the old man was suffering
from a paralytic stroke. I must be sure to send him the news, as
soon as I get to Aden; and I have promised that he will receive
the message from me quicker than anything was ever received in
Central Africa.
"To-morrow night, Doctor, you will be alone!"
"Yes; the house will look as though a death had taken place.
You had better stop until the rains, which are now near,
are over."
"I would to God I could, my dear Doctor; but every day I stop
here, now that there is no necessity for me to stay longer, keeps
you from your work and home."
"I know; but consider your health - you are not fit to travel.
What is it? Only a few weeks longer. You will travel to the
coast just as quickly when the rains are over as you will by
going now. The plains will be inundated between here and the
coast."
"You think so; but I will reach the coast in forty days; if
not in forty, I will in fifty - certain. The thought that I
am doing you an important service will spur me on."
March 14th. - At dawn we were up, the bales and baggage were taken
outside of the building, and the men prepared themselves for the
first march towards home.
We had a sad breakfast together. I could not eat, my heart was
too full; neither did my companion seem to have an appetite. We
found something to do which kept us longer together. At 8 o'clock
I was not gone, and I had thought to have been off at 5 A.M.
"Doctor," said I, "I will leave two men with you, who will stop
to-day and to-morrow with you, for it may be that you have
forgotten something in the hurry of my departure. I will halt a
day at Tura, on the frontier of Unyamwezi, for your last word,
and your last wish; and now we must part - there is no help for it.
Good-bye."
"Oh, I am coming with you a little way. I must see you off on
the road."
"Thank you. Now, my men, Home! Kirangozi, lift the flag, and
MARCH!"
The house looked desolate - it faded from our view. Old times,
and the memories of my aspirations and kindling hopes, came strong
on me. The old hills round about, that I once thought tame and
uninteresting, had become invested with histories and reminiscences
for me. On that burzani I have sat hour after hour, dreaming, and
hoping, and sighing. On that col I stood, watching the battle and
the destruction of Tabora.
