82 THROUGH ANGOLA 



during the day had brought on a sharp attack 

 of fever, and it was with relief that I got back 

 to where camp had been pitched under two immense 

 forest fig trees (mulembas). 



The only water in the surrounding country 

 came from a shallow well, where every living 

 thing for miles around beast, bird, or insect- 

 was compelled to drink. It looked like pea-soup 

 and stank horridly. But though many natives 

 like water that has a taste and smell, all appar- 

 ently do not do so, for somebody stole my small 

 store of filtered water, so that, with the increased 

 thirst brought by the fever, I suffered a good deal 

 that night. My lips were parched and my tongue 

 dry, but it would have been madness to drink the 

 water of the well without boiling it, and when 

 boiled, the stench it gave off was so foul that my 

 fever-stricken stomach could not tolerate it. At 

 last, by mixing it with coffee for tea could not 

 hide its nauseous flavour I was able to prepare 

 a drink which could be taken. For those who 

 have never known what real thirst may mean, or 

 what sufferings it can bring when combined with 

 fever, it is didicult to realize the joy of my first 

 drink of good water, when I reached a spring next 

 day. 



We had camped at the village of Cunde Cunde, 

 near the Longoe, but higher up the stream than 

 where we had first met it at Bonji village. 



It was while I was still very weak from fever, 

 and hunting to shoot for food, that I met the big 

 bull sable. He was walking along the opposite 

 c(]r?c of a forest clearing, and I determined to try 



o * 



