The left arm felt half-paralysed, the left nostril was choked with mucus, and on the centre of the left shoulder blade I felt a pain as if some one was branding me with a hot iron.

All this was constant; and, in addition, I repeatedly felt severe pains--rather paroxysms of fearful twinges--in the spleen, liver, and lungs; whilst during my sleep I had all sorts of absurd dreams: for instance--I planned a march across Africa with Sir Roderick Murchison; and I fancied some curious creatures, half-men and half-monkeys, came into my camp to inform me that Petherick was waiting in boats at the south-west corner of the N'yanza, etc., etc.
Though my mind was so weak and excited when I woke up from these trances, I thought of nothing but the march, and how I could get out of Lumeresi's hands.

He, with the most benign countenance, came in to see me, the very first thing in the morning, as he said, to inquire after my health; when, to please him as much as I could, I had a guard of honour drawn up at the tent door to fire a salute as he entered; then giving him my iron camp-chair to sit upon, which tickled him much--for he was very corpulent, and he thought its legs would break down with his weight--we had a long talk, though it was as much as I could do to remember anything, my brain was so excited and weak.

Kind as he looked and spoke, he forgot all his promises about coveting my property, and scarcely got over the first salutation before he began begging for many things that he saw, and more especially for a deole, in order that he might wear it on all great occasions, to show his contemporaries what a magnanimous man his white visitor was.

I soon lost my temper whilst striving to settle the hongo.