they fell dead only a few yards from
the fount of life. I picked up a great number of these huge birds, and
made their skins into useful bed coverings, rugs, and even articles of
clothing. When this terrible visitation was at its height Yamba made a
curious suggestion to me. Addressing me gravely one night she said, "You
have often told me of the Great Spirit whom your people worship; He can
do all things and grant all prayers. Can you not appeal to Him now to
send us water?" It was a little bit awkward for me, but as I had often
chatted to my wife about the Deity, and told her of His omnipotence and
His great goodness to mankind, I was more or less obliged to adopt this
suggestion. Accordingly she and I knelt down together one night in our
dwelling, and offered up an earnest prayer to God that He would send
water to the afflicted country. Next morning that which seemed to me a
miracle had been wrought. Incredible though it may appear, all the
creeks, which until the previous night had been mere dry watercourses for
an untold number of months, were rippling and running with the
much-needed water, and we were saved all further anxiety, at any rate for
the time. There may be, however, some scientific explanation of this
extraordinary occurrence.

No sooner had we recovered from the delight caused by this phenomenally
sudden change than the rain came--such rain! and the tremendous tropical
downpour lasted for several weeks. The country soon reverted to
something like its normal appearance.

The bush fires were extinguished, and even my lagoon came into existence
again.

Talking about bush fires, we often saw them raging madly and sublimely in
the mountains. They would burn for weeks at a stretch, and devastate
hundreds of miles of country. For ourselves, we always prepared for such
emergencies by "ringing" our dwelling--that is to say, laying bare a
certain stretch of country in a perfect circle around us. Often we were
almost choked by the intense heat which the wind occasionally wafted to
us, and which, combined with the blazing sun and scarcity of water,
rendered life positively intolerable.

I now wish to say a few words about Bruno--a few last sorrowful
words--because at this period he was growing feeble, and, indeed, had
never been the same since the death of Gibson. Still, I was constantly
making use of his sagacity to impress the blacks. My usual custom was to
hide some article (such as my tomaha