The sun was already in the west, but before evening Linde had told Stasch of his adventures. He said he was the son of a merchant in Zürich, that his family had come from Karlsruhe, and that in the year 1848 they had settled in Switzerland. His father had made a great fortune as a silk merchant. He had his son trained as an engineer, but young Henry from his earliest youth was beset with the idea of traveling. When he graduated from the Polytechnic School he inherited the entire fortune of his father, and then started on his first journey to Egypt. This took place before the time of the Mahdi, and so he got as far as Khartum, and hunted in the Sudan with the Dongalese. He then devoted himself to studying the geography of Africa, in which he so excelled that he belonged to many geographical societies. This last journey, which was to terminate so badly for him, had been undertaken from Zanzibar. He had got as far as the great lakes and intended to advance along the unexplored mountains of Karamajo as far as Abyssinia, and from there to the borders of the sea. But the people of Zanzibar would not accompany him any further. Fortunately, or unfortunately, war was at that time raging between the kings of Uganda and Unyoro. Linde materially assisted the king of Uganda, and the latter as a reward gave him more than two hundred black Agisis. That naturally greatly facilitated the journey and the visit to the Karamajo Mountains, but just then the smallpox broke out among the people, followed by the terrible sleeping-sickness, and at last the caravan was demoralized and destroyed.
Linde had with him quantities of provisions, consisting of all kinds of canned goods, but as he dreaded the scurvy, he hunted daily for fresh meat. He was a splendid shot, but not a very cautious hunter.
And so it happened that a few days before, when he had foolishly approached too near a wounded Ndiri wild boar, the animal sprang up, tore his leg terribly, and wounded him in the back. This happened quite near this camp, and in full view of Nasibu, who tore up his own shirt and made a bandage of it to stop the flow of blood, and brought the wounded man back to the tent. But as the result of internal bleeding, clumps of coagulated blood formed, and the patient was threatened with gangrene.
Stasch insisted on bandaging him, and declared that either he would come to see him every day, or—so as not to leave Nell alone in the care of the two negroes—put him on a felt rug stretched out between two horses and bring him to “Cracow.” Linde was willing to let Stasch make a new bandage for him, but he would on no account listen to the thought of being removed.
“I know,” he said, pointing to his negroes, “that these people must die, but as long as death has not yet come to them I can not condemn them while alive to be torn to pieces by the hyenas, who are only kept at a distance during the night by the campfire.”
And he at once began to repeat feverishly:
“I can not, I can not, I can not!”
However, he soon regained his composure, and continued in a peculiarly sad, ringing voice:
“Come here to-morrow early. I have a great favor to ask of you, and if you grant it, God will perhaps lead you both out of this African hell, and I will die contented. I wanted to postpone this request until to-morrow, but as I may be unconscious to-morrow, I will tell you to-day. Pour water into a vessel, go up to each of these poor sleeping creatures, sprinkle water on his head, and say: ‘I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.’ ”
This he said with a voice full of emotion, and then became silent.