XXXII.] A GOOD SAMARITAN. 431 



At the bottom of a ravine we found water, wliieli was a god- Xovembt-r, 

 send to me, for my mouth was still bleeding, and I had ah-eady 1875. 

 used that brought by us from oar midday halting-place. 



Another steej) climb brought us almost to the summit of the 

 last ridge, where it was somewhat level ; and numerous iires 

 dotted about denoted the camps of caravans that had started 

 that evening from Katombela, and were halted here, ready to 

 commence their march early in the morning, without being de- 

 layed by the attractions of the grog-shops. One of my men, a 

 short way in advance of me, now shouted, " Here's our camp- 

 master !" and, hastening on, I saw Manoel's messenger. 



He had with him a basket containing wine, bread, tins of 

 sardines, and a sausage; and although my mouth would not 

 admit of my eating without pain, I managed to take some sup- 

 per, for I had tasted nothing since the previous evening. From 

 a note, in English, from Mr. Seruia, a trader at Katombela, who 

 had kindly sent out these provisions, I learned that my letters 

 had been forwarded to Benguela. My messenger, it appeared, 

 was too tired to return, so Mr. Seruia had sent one of his own 

 people back with Manoel's man. 



This was my last night outside the pale of civilization ; and, 

 though thoroughly tired, I was much too excited to sleep. 



Long before the rising of the sun, we were all on the move, 

 and, quickly finishing the remains of the supper, started on our 

 last march. Twenty minutes brought us within sight of the 

 sea, and I then noticed the position of Katombela and Benguela 

 with regard to each other. I had been puzzled on hearing that 

 the former was passed before reaching Benguela, and could not 

 understand the course of the last march ; but now I found Ka- 

 tombela situated on the sea-shore, instead of ten or twelve miles 

 inland, as I had inuigined from the description given me. 



A man engaged in searching for runaway slaves told me that 

 rumors respecting an Englishman coming from the interior had 

 been rife for some time, but no one had believed them. 



I ran down the slope toward Katombela, swinging my rifle 

 round my head, which I believe was almost " turned " for very 

 joy ; and the men, carried away with the same sense of relief, 

 joined in the running till we approached nearer the town. 

 Then I unfurled my colors, and went forward more quietly. 



