1 82 THROUGH GASA LAND. 



upon the now smouldering fire. Neither spoke for 

 minutes. At length my man informed me that he 

 and his people had been discussing the lengthened 

 absence of Dillon, and that they thought that it 

 would be advisable for some of them to go in search 

 of him — not that they apprehended him to be in 

 any danger, or that any accident had happened to 

 him, for if such was the case, some of his attendants 

 would have returned to inform us, but to bring him 

 back, for he feared I was going to be ill. 



" No, no," I answered, " I am all right — only a 

 little dull, a little low-spirited." 



" That's the way with white man before he gets 

 the fever — no eat, no sleep, no hunt, and then in 

 two or three days get very sick," he replied. 



(Since then how true I have observed Sunday's 

 prognostics to be. I have lost many friends in 

 Africa by the fever common to the low-lying parts 

 of the country, and the attacks they suffered from 

 were invariably foretold by the symptoms men- 

 tioned.) 



" I'll wait a few days more, and then if Mr. 

 Dillon does not return we will bury the ivory and 

 all go in search of him," continued I. 



Sunday was not talkative to-night. I tried to 

 lead him into a description of some of his wonderful 

 hunting adventures, but the humour was not on him, 

 so both relapsed into silence. 



