CHAPTER XXIII
GOOD-BYE TO THE JUNGLE
I WAS in excellent health. There seemed no danger at all and I believed that I could stay there three or four months longer. It is a great game, full of fascination. You get a few diamonds to-day. Next day less, next day more, next day scarcely any, next day a big one, and so on. Always it is “To-morrow we may get a ten carat stone,” or “To-morrow we may pull a fistful out of one ‘baby,’” and so the temptation is great to stay on and on. At the rate that we were gathering in diamonds it seemed that we ought to pile up about $50,000 in six months. But after we had been actually mining more than four months I was returning from a hunting trip. I had a great burden of deer meat on my back. I walked through bogs where it was almost impossible to pull my feet out of the mud. I was hungry and extremely tired.
Now that is just when the white man succumbs to the bite of the mosquito down there. One nailed me on the back of the hand but I thought nothing of it.
But next morning I hated to get up. I had no strength. I became worse during the day and for several days lay in a sort of semi-stupor, weak and listless.
“Very bad,” said Captain Peter; “get him back before he dies!”
Poor Lewis broke camp in record time. They bundled me into the boat and I was conscious only a small part of the time.
Going downriver is far different from coming up. They made the trip to Georgetown in a few days and when they got me to the hospital the doctors looked me over and demanded a deposit of $85.
“Why?” demanded Lewis, quite indignant.