My people had a windfall of luck, as Saat's ox, that had lingered for a long time, lay down to die, and stretching himself out, commenced kicking his last kick.

The men immediately assisted him by cutting his throat, and this supply of beef was a luxury which, even in my hungry state, was not the English beefsteak for which I sighed, and I declined the diseased bull.
The men made several long excursions through the country to purchase provisions, but in two months they procured only two kids; the entire country was deserted, owing to the war between Kamrasi and Fowooka.
Every day the boy Saat and the woman Bacheeta sallied out and conversed with the inhabitants of the different islands on the river.

Sometimes, but very rarely, they returned with a fowl; such an event caused great rejoicing.
We gave up all hope of Gondokoro, and were resigned to our fate.

This, we felt sure, was to be buried in Chopi, the name of our village.

I wrote instructions in my journal, in case of death, and told my headman to be sure to deliver my maps, observations, and papers to the English Consul at Khartoum.