Niger

Mungo, impatiently, had him buried. They were
on the borders of Bambarra at last.
Next morning, crossing the frontier, a soldier,
Ashton, declared himself unable to walk. Mungo
advised him, coldly, to make an exertion and come
on. Scott was staggering with fever, and Alexander
Anderson also seemed weak. Mungo had no time
to bother on the ailments of private soldiers.
Ashton was left behind, and the caravan dis¬
appeared into the forest.
Mungo plodded in the rear, driving the last ass.
At four o’clock he came to the bank of a westwards-
flowing stream, and found several of the soldiers
lying there exhausted, unable to cross. More
serious still, his brother-in-law lay under a bush,
apparently dying. Mungo surveyed the scene
coolly, picked up Alexander on his back, carried
him across the stream, returned for Alexander’s
horse, for his own ass, and for various other articles
he could not spare. Then, leaving the soldiers to
their fate, and feeling c somewhat fatigued ’ after
crossing and recrossing the stream sixteen times,
he trudged on to the village of Dabadoo where the
head of the caravan had already found sanctuary.
Alexander was in great pain.
Next day he was much worse, unable either to
walk or sit upright, and Mungo halted for a whole
twenty-four hours to help him recover. Various
soldiers straggled in from the westwards track.
Martyn still kept his health and Scott had a little
recovered. Mungo himself was in splendid con-
287