132 THROUGH GASA LAND. 



depressing ; still I could not tear myself away from 



them. 



By many a deathbed I have been, 

 And many a sinner's parting scene, 

 But never aught like this. 



I do not mind confessing it, I shed tears. Talk 

 not of grief till thou hast seen the tears of warlike 

 men. It appeared that I was not to be left alone in 

 my sorrow, for, scarcely had death closed poor 

 Selwin's eyes, when a shriek so wild and despairing 

 rent the air, that I sprang to my feet, seized my rifle, 

 and rushed forth into the darkness. The fires were 

 all out, the rain had extinguished them, but the voices 

 of my Zulus soon led me to where they were. As I 

 suspected, so it turned out to be. A lion had carried 

 off one of the Mantatees. A rescue could not be 

 attempted without fire, and what an age it seemed 

 to take to produce it. That the victim was dead I 

 could not doubt, for his voice was silent, and silence 

 proclaimed death. We all know the truth of the 

 adage " the more hurry the worse speed," and here 

 it was most provokingly verified. For what appeared 

 quite an age, nothing could be induced to burn, so 

 saturated was all inflammable material by the heavy 

 rains. At length I had to return to the hut where 

 the corpse lay, to procure some of the dry grass and 

 brush that formed the groundwork of my couch. 

 The feeble lamp glimmered in its resting-place, but 

 threw sufficient light upon the face of my friend, so 



