30th—Rainy season said to be over till November. First touch of African winter. Dew very heavy. Plains all flooded. Easterly winds: difficulty of respiration; susceptibility to fever. No trace of Mrs. Weldon; cannot tell whether she is ahead. Fear Jack may have a return of fever.
May 5th—Forced to march several stages across flooded plains, water up to the waist; many leeches sticking to the skin. Lotus and papyrus upon higher ground. Great heavy leaves, like cabbages, beneath the water, make many stumble as they walk. Saw large numbers of little fish, silurus-species; these are caught by the natives, and sold to the caravans.
7th—Plain still inundated. Last night, no halting-place to be found. Marched on through the darkness. Great misery. Except for Mrs. Weldon, life not worth having; for her sake must hold out. Loud cries heard. Saw, by the lightning, soldiers breaking large boughs from the resinous trees that emerged from the water. The caravan had been attacked on the flank by a dozen or more crocodiles; women and children seized and carried off to what Livingstone calls their “pasture-lands,” the holes where they deposit their prey until it is decomposed. Myself grazed by the scales of one of them. A slave close beside me torn out of the fork, which was snapped in half. How the poor fellow’s cry of agony rings in my ear! This morning, twenty missing. Tom and the others, thank God! are still alive. They are on in front. Once Bat made a sharp turn, and Tom caught sight of me. Nothing to be seen of Nan; was she, poor creature, one of those that the crocodiles had got?
8th—After twenty-four hours in the water we have crossed the plain. We have halted on a hill. The sun helps to dry us. Nothing to eat except a little manioc and a few handfuls of maize. Only muddy water to drink. Impossible for Mrs. Weldon to survive these hardships; I hope from my heart that she has been taken some other way. Smallpox has broken out in the caravan; those that have it are to be left behind.
9th—Started at dawn. No stragglers allowed; sick and weary must be kept together by havildars’ whip; the losses were considerable. Living skeletons all round. Rejoiced once more to catch sight of Nan. She was not carrying the child any longer; she was alone; the chain was round her waist, but she had the loose end thrown over her shoulder. I got close to her; suppose I am altered, as she did not know me. After I had called her by name several times she stared at me, and at last said, “Ah, Mr. Dick, is it you? you will not see me here much longer.” Her cadaverous look pained my very soul, but I tried to speak hopefully. Poor Nan shook her head. “I shall never see my dear mistress again; no, nor master Jack; I shall soon die.” Anxious to help her, I would gladly have carried the end of the chain which she had been obliged to bear because her fellow-prisoner was dead. A rough hand was soon upon my shoulder; a cruel lash had made Nan retreat to the general crowd, whilst, at the bidding of an Arab chief, I was hustled back to the very hindmost rank of the procession. I overheard the word Negoro, in a way that convinced me that it is under the direction of the Portuguese that I am subject to this hard indignity.
11th—Last night encamped under some large trees on the skirts of a forest. Several escaped prisoners recaptured; their punishment barbarously cruel. Loud roaring of lions and hyenas heard at nightfall, also snorting of hippopotamuses; probably some lake or watercourse not far off. Tired, but could not sleep; heard a rustling in the grass; felt sure that something was going to attack me; what could I do? I had no gun. For Mrs. Weldon’s sake, must, if possible, preserve my life. The night was dark; no moon; two eyes gleamed upon me; I was about to utter a cry of alarm; fortunately, I suppressed it; the creature that had sprung to my feet was Dingo! The dog licked my hands all over, persisting in rubbing his neck against them, evidently to make me feel there; found a reed fastened to the well-known collar upon which the initials S. V. had so often awakened our curiosity; breaking open the reed, I took a note from inside; it was too dark for me to see to read it. I tried, by caressing Dingo, to detain him; but the dog appeared to know that his mission with me was at an end; he licked my hands affectionately, made a sudden bound, and disappeared in the long grass as mysteriously as he had come. The howling of the wild beasts increased. How I dreaded that the faithful creature would become their prey! No more sleep this night for me. It seemed that daylight would never dawn; at length it broke with the suddenness that marks a tropical morn. I was able cautiously to read my note; the handwriting, I knew at a glance, was that of Hercules; there were but a few lines in pencil:—
“Mrs. Weldon and Jack carried away in a kitanda. Harris and Negoro both with them. Mr. Benedict too. Only a few marches ahead, but cannot be communicated with at present. Found Dingo wounded by a gunshot. Dear Mr. Dick, do not despair; keep up your courage. I may help you yet.
As far as it went, this intelligence was satisfactory. A kitanda, I know, is a kind of litter made of dry grass, protected by a curtain, and carried on the shoulders of two men by a long bamboo. What a relief to know that Mrs. Weldon and Jack have been spared the miseries of this dreadful march!
