304 EETEEAT FROM ASHANGO-LAND. Chap. XVIII. 



the mournful cry of a solitary owl. My exhausted 

 men thought neither of leopards, nor poisonous snakes, 

 nor hostile savages, but slept soundly ; as for myself, 

 I was too anxious to sleep, and Igala distressed me by 

 his moaning from time to time, although he tried all 

 he could to suppress it. 



The night air was misty and cold. As I lay awake 

 on the damp ground, I thought of kindred and friends 

 in the far north, of the many happy hours I had 

 spent in happy homes, amidst every luxury of civi- 

 lized life ; and I felt desolate, as though all was now 

 ended. I also thought of those who, in the comfort 

 of their own fire-sides, carp at the narratives of tra- 

 vellers, and begrudge the little honour and fame they 

 may gain. I am sure that if they had only passed 

 through a tithe of the hardships travellers undergo, 

 they would be more indulgent. 



At last I thought it must be near midnight, so I 

 awoke my men and sent two of tliem into the path 

 that leads to the village, telling them to go and see 

 if all was quiet. They returned with a favourable 

 report. Then calling them all close to me, I said, 

 " My boys, I have fought for you as bard as I could, 

 but the time may be at hand when I shall not be 

 able to do so any more. I may be killed to-nig'ht, or 

 I may not be strong enough to fight much longer. 

 Whatever happens, lemain together ; listen to Igala, 

 your chief, and do not throw away my Journals.* 

 Even if you have to throw away everything else, do 



* One of the volumes of the journal, together with my route-maps, 

 numerous notes, and two copies of astronomical and meteorological observa- 

 tions, had already been lost in the relreat. 



I 



