Yaseen Died; He Was One Who Had Bled At The Nose.

We stopped to bury him.

The funeral hastily arranged, we again set sail. Mahommed died; he had bled at the nose. Another burial. Once more we set sail and hurried down the Nile. Several men were ill, but the dreaded symptom had not appeared. I had given each man a strong dose of calomel at the commencement of the disease; I could do nothing more, as my medicines were exhausted. All night we could hear the sick, muttering and raving in delirium, but from years of association with disagreeables we had no fear of the infection. One morning the boy Saat came to me with his head bound up, and complained of severe pain in the back and limbs, with all the usual symptoms of plague: in the afternoon I saw him leaning over the ship's side; his nose was bleeding violently! At night he was delirious. On the following morning he was raving, and on the vessel stopping to collect firewood he threw himself into the river to cool the burning fever that consumed him. His eyes were suffused with blood, which, blended with a yellow as deep as the yolk of egg, gave a horrible appearance to his face, that was already so drawn and changed as to be hardly recognised. Poor Saat! the faithful boy that we had adopted, and who had formed so bright an exception to the dark character of his race, was now a victim to this horrible disease. He was a fine strong lad of nearly fifteen, and he now lay helplessly on his mat, and cast wistful glances at the face of his mistress as she gave him a cup of cold water mixed with a few lumps of sugar that we had obtained from the traders at Gondokoro.

We arrived at Fashoder, in the Shillook country, where the Egyptian Government had formed a camp of a thousand men to take possession of the country. We were well received and hospitably entertained by Osman Bey, to whom our thanks are due for the first civilized reception after years of savagedom. At Fashoder we procured lentils, rice, and dates, which were to us great luxuries, and would be a blessing to the plague-smitten boy, as we could now make some soup. Goats we had purchased in the Shir country for molotes (iron hoes) that we had received in exchange for corn at Gondokoro from Koorshid's agent who was responsible for the supply I had left in depot. We left Fashoder, and continued our voyage towards Khartoum.

Saat grew worse and worse: nothing would relieve the unfortunate boy from the burning torture of that frightful disease. He never slept, but night and day he muttered in delirium, breaking the monotony of his malady by occasionally howling like a wild animal. Richarn won my heart by his careful nursing of the boy, who had been his companion through years of hardship. We arrived at the village of Wat Shely, only three days from Khartoum.

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