half broken. Two women, tied to the same fork,
precipitated into the water. One was carrying her little child. The
waters are disturbed and become stained with blood. Crocodiles glide
between the parts of the bridge. There is danger of stepping into
their open mouths.

_April 28th_.--Crossed a forest of bauhiniers. Trees of straight
timber--those which furnish the iron wood for the Portuguese.

Heavy rain. Earth wet. March extremely painful.

Perceived, toward the center of the convoy, poor Nan, carrying
a little negro child in her arms. She drags herself along with
difficulty. The slave chained with her limps, and the blood flows from
her shoulder, torn by lashes from the whip.

In the evening camped under an enormous baobab with white flowers and
a light green foliage.

During the night roars of lions and leopards. Shots fired by one of
the natives at a panther. What has become of Hercules?

_April 29th and 30th_.--First colds of what they call the African
winter. Dew very abundant. End of the rainy season with the month of
April; it commences with the month of November. Plains still largely
inundated. East winds which check perspiration and renders one more
liable to take the marsh fevers.

No trace of Mrs. Weldon, nor of Mr. Benedict. Where would they take
them, if not to Kazounde? They must have followed the road of the
caravan and preceded us. I am eaten up with anxiety. Little Jack must
be seized again with the fever in this unhealthy region. But does he
still live?

_From May 1st to May 6th_.--Crossed, with several halting-places,
long plains, which evaporation has not been able to dry up. Water
everywhere up to the waist. Myriads of leeches adhering to the skin.
We must march for all that. On some elevations that emerge are lotus
and papyrus. At the bottom, under the water, other plants, with large
cabbage leaves, on which the feet slip, which occasions numerous
falls.

In these waters, considerable quantities of little fish of the silurus
species. The natives catch them by billions in wickers and sell them
to the caravans.

Impossible to find a place to camp for the night. We see no limit to
the inundated plain. We must march in the dark. To-morrow many slaves
will be missing from the convoy. What misery! When one falls, why get
up again? A few moments more under these waters, and all would be
finished. The overseer's stick would not reach you in the darkness.

Yes, but Mrs. Weldon and her son!