But we had no horses, and there was no road--nothing but swamps and bush and rocky hills.

With our untrained cattle it took us three days to travel the first twelve miles, though after that things went somewhat better.
It may be asked, why did I not send on?
But whom could I send when no one knew the way, except the woman, Jeel, whom I feared to part with lest I should see her no more?
Moreover, what was the use of sending, since the messengers could take no help?
If everyone at the camp was dead, as rumour told us--well, they were dead.

And if they lived, the hope was that they might live a little longer.

Meanwhile, I dared not part with my guide, nor dared I leave the relief wagons to go on with her alone.

If I did so, I knew that I should never see them again, since only the prestige of their being owned by a white man who was not a Portuguese prevented the natives from looting them.
It was a truly awful journey.