HUNTING AND HUNTED IN BELGIAN CONGO 



a portion of chicken spitted on the end toasting over the 

 fire. 



I made a hearty meal of the chicken that evening. 

 We all sat round, and it was a sight to see the boys 

 eating. After supper I lit my pipe again, my thought 

 flying far away home as one by one the boys fell asleep 

 round the fire. My arm and left side were very much 

 swollen, and were giving me great pain, but there was no 

 help for it, and I had to put up with it. The boys had 

 collected enough wood to last all night, so I sat smoking 

 and looking into the dancing flames, then beyond into 

 the darkness, for strange sounds seemed to come from 

 every quarter, something seemed to be moving in the tall 

 tree overhead, restless babies and dogs were to be heard 

 far away, but still nothing came to disturb us. It had 

 been a tough day, and the reaction was straining my 

 nerves. I could not believe that it all had happened, 

 but when I found myself rubbing my eyes and looking 

 round for the boys who had been killed, I remembered 

 that it was all too true. I had no bed to sleep on, and 

 only one blanket besides the clothes that I stood up in. 

 At length I dosed off, but awoke frequently at the sound 

 of some prowling beast, whose low growl echoed far away 

 in the night air. My arm throbbed terribly, and pain 

 shot all through my body. Towards morning, however, 

 I slept fairly soundly rolled up in my blanket under the 

 mosquito net, which had fortunately been saved, and 

 with my arm resting on my rifle. 



I did not wake up until the sun streamed in at the 

 door of my hut. My wound was worse than on the 

 previous evening, and the swelling had spread around 

 my shoulder and towards the neck. Salem again dressed 

 the wound with permanganate. The natives marvelled 

 that I was still alive, for they handled carefully the 

 arrows which Salem had brought forward wrapped up 

 in grass. 



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