Feb. 27.—Our own flour did not appear till the afternoon of to-day, and I never felt more pleased than when I got it. They gave me a note from H., which was written in pencil on an envelope, and ran as follows:—
"Barrakee's Village, Friday, 26th, 1 P.M.
"Thank Heaven we have just this moment arrived! You never saw such a journey: it was sixty, if not seventy, miles. We waited for two hours in the heat of the day to rest the donkeys, and then went on as hard as we could, and arrived at the river that Barrakee had spoken about at 6 P.M. The rest of the donkeys came up about an hour after. We stayed till the moon got up about 11 or 12 P.M. We had to leave the donkeys behind; they will, I hope, be here some time to-night. I have been marching ever since, and have just this moment arrived. The mules are regularly done up: mine and Fisk's cannot move. I shall keep the things here till you come up. You will find it two good days' march from Coom-Coom-Dema to this place. The river B. spoke about is a beastly place; the water is bad, but you will be able to catch fish. We caught some. Three of Barrakee's villagers are to take the flour. I brought one of ours on, intending to send him back, but it is impossible, for he is dead beat and has been walking for twenty-four hours straight off; he could never walk back sixty miles, for I quite think it is that from Coom-Coom-Dema. You will see when you come. They will show you the way here. How is your complaint, old man? I do trust it is all right now. I cannot move from here, for I know when the baggage comes up the donkeys will be completely done. They are bound to come on account of the food.
"Friday, Feb. 26, 1.30 P.M.
"They have just finished grinding and collecting the flour. Our coolie is going after all. He is anxious to make a dollar. If they are not with you before sunset to-morrow (Saturday), they forfeit a dollar. The money is with their Shum.[13] There is enough for one hundred and sixty bread" (rations), "also ten eggs. One of the bags that the flour is in does not belong to us. We shall soon be all straight. Barrakee is getting the rest of the flour."
Never was letter more acceptable, and especially as with it had come the long-desired and looked-for flour. Although H. had not long been away from me, in the short time I had experienced a feeling of loneliness as well as utter helplessness; but it was no good giving way to thoughts like these, as if my servants once saw any inclination on my part to despond, I should never have been able to get anything done, and they would have found out too soon that even the much-dreaded white man is at times dependent upon help, even if it be from a nigger. On the whole, I cannot complain of my servants, as they had much to put up with. When one is ill, little annoyances are hard to bear, and I dare say at times I was thought rather tyrannical; but it is very little use regretting these things now, as there is not the remotest chance of any of my natives reading what I have here written.
Feb. 28.—This was an uneventful day, and I felt exceedingly weak and ill. It had become very much cooler than it was in the two camps nearer the Tackazzee, as the north wind blows towards the evening and the mornings are quite cool.
March 1.—I find written in my journal: "Am, I think, getting really better. I have shot one and a half brace of little sand-grouse as they flew near the tent in the morning. I went after the herd of hartebeest that I had seen very often near the tent, on the plain at the head of which I was encamped, but I could not get near them. I succeeded to-day in very nearly poisoning myself by mistaking one medicine for another, for I took opium in mistake for some other stuff. After I had discovered my error I swallowed some brandy, went out for a walk, and told my servants if they found me going to sleep to wake me up."
March 2.—The opium seems to have done me good, as I find written in the journal that "I am decidedly better, the symptoms of dysentery having partly gone away." To-day I had great fun shooting a fine bull hartebeest. This animal is about the size of an Alderney cow. I was going out of my tent very early in the morning when I saw the herd grazing not far off on the plain. I tried to stalk a bull which was feeding behind the herd and on the nearest side to me, but I failed. I then tried to stalk another, which was more on the left of the herd, and which looked a very big gentleman, and, I think, an old friend of mine, as I had fired at him before. As I was creeping along, the herd had closed up and passed not far off on my right. The bull that I had first tried to stalk was following. I missed him with both barrels of my Express, and then I ran to the top of an ant-hill and took aim at him with my heavy 12-bore rifle. It was a very long shot; the left barrel broke his hind-leg just at the hock; and now the hunt began.
I had come out of my tent with only my slippers on, and in walking through the burnt grass of the plain the short hard stubs were rather trying to my feet with nothing but stockings on. The bull hartebeest managed to go very nearly two miles; he stopped on several occasions and let me come close up to him. I fired at him with my Express, and, as I thought, missed him; he then limped away again, but went a good deal faster than one would suppose was possible. It was getting very hot, but I was determined the brute should not beat me. I lost sight of him for a little time among some trees; when I got through them I found he was trying to ascend a small hill. I had two more cartridges of my heavy rifle, and these I fired at him, and as he was waddling up the hill the shot broke the fetlock-joint of his other hind-leg. This stopped him, and Goubasee and myself found him sitting up like a dog, close to a white-ant hill. I had no knife with me and no cartridges, and I did not know on earth what to do; so Goubasee got big stones and handed them up the ant-hill to me, as I stood on the top and tried to smash his head in by throwing them at him. He charged at me in a clumsy way twice, when I was not on the ant-hill, and very nearly caught me with his horns as I half tripped-up in stepping back. I thought I would look in the cartridge-bag to see if I had completely run out of ammunition: to my great joy I found one Express cartridge; so I put the beast out of his misery with a shot behind the ear.