"He ate with us, and consequently had the same food."
I felt his body. It was hotter than the day before, and his pulse beat so quickly that I felt he could not live much longer.
I shouted to Rogala: "Ndova is very, very ill; come and look at him;" and he came.
"Truly," he said, "Ndova is very, very ill indeed."
"If Ndova dies," I said, "we lose a very good friend who has been invaluable to us in this forest. Never shall we get another monkey as intelligent."
In the course of a few days poor Ndova had grown so thin that we could hardly recognize him. His eyes had entirely lost their mischievous expression, and could only give us a blank look. I put a little jacket on him which I made out of a woollen shirt. I made a little bed, shaking the leaves thoroughly, and laid him upon it, and covered him with what was left of the woollen shirt. Then I said: "Ndova, I am going into the forest to get berries for you."
When I returned I put some berries before his lips, but his mouth did not open to eat them. "Eat these, Ndova," I said to him; but he only answered me by a look. Before dark I went to say good-night to him, but he had not the strength to move his arms, which were under his little blanket. I tucked him in, and while I was doing so, his eyes looked at me in a blank sort of way. I said to him: "Dear Ndova, I wish you could know how much we think of you, and how we shall miss you if you die."
"I do not think we shall find Ndova alive to-morrow morning," I said to Rogala, who was by my side.
I went to bed with a heavy heart, thinking how many times Ndova had rescued us from hunger and perhaps starvation. I awoke several times during the night, and each time I got up and went to see if Ndova was dead. His life was ebbing away, his pulse was very low, but he still breathed.