hut?

Livingstone had not merely turned himself, he had risento pray; he
still rested on his knees, his hands were clasped under his head: when
they approached him he seemed to live. He had not fallen to right or
left when he rendered up his spirit to God. Death required no change of
limb or position; there was merely the gentle settling forwards of the
frame unstrung by pain, for the Traveller's perfect rest had come. Will
not time show that the men were scarcely wrong when they thought "he yet
speaketh"--aye, perhaps far more clearly to us than he could have done
by word or pen or any other means!

Is it, then, presumptuous to think that the long-used fervent prayer of
the wanderer sped forth once more--that the constant supplication became
more perfect in weakness, and that from his "loneliness" David
Livingstone, with a dying effort, yet again besought Him for whom He
laboured to break down the oppression and woe of the land?

* * * * *

Before daylight the men were quietly told in each hut what had happened,
and that they were to assemble. Coming together as soon as it was light
enough to see, Susi and Chumah said that they wished everybody to be
present whilst the boxes were opened, so that in case money or valuables
were in them, all might be responsible. Jacob Wainwright (who could
write, they knew) was asked to make some notes which should serve as an
inventory, and then the boxes were brought out from the hut.

Before he left England in 1865, Dr. Livingstone arranged that his
travelling equipment should be as compact as possible. An old friend
gave him some exceedingly well-made tin-boxes, two of which lasted out
the whole of his travels. In these his papers and instruments were safe
from wet and from white ants, which have to be guarded against more than
anything else. Besides the articles mentioned below, a number of letters
and despatches in various stages were likewise enclosed, and one can
never sufficiently extol the good feeling which after his death
invested all these writings with something like a sacred care in the
estimation of his men. It was the Doctor's custom to carry a small
metallic note-book in his pocket: a quantity of these have come to hand
filled from end to end, and as the men preserved every one that they
found, we have a daily entry to fall back upon. Nor was less care shown
for his rifles, sextants, his Bible and Church-service, and the medicine
ch