Our position was untenable, as the
drinking place was three miles distant. Again the nogara sounded, and
the native guides declared that they could not remain where we then
were, but they would conceal themselves in the high grass. My wife
proposed that we should forsake our luggage, and march at once for
Foweera and effect a junction with our men and ammunition before
daybreak. I was sure that it could not be less than twelve or thirteen
miles, and in her weak state it would be impossible for her to
accomplish the distance, through high grass, in darkness, over a rough
path, with the chance of the route being already occupied by the enemy.
However, she was determined to risk the march. I accordingly prepared to
start at 9 P.M., as at that time the moon would be about 30 degrees
above the horizon and would afford us a good light. I piled all the
luggage within the hut, packed our blankets in a canvas bag, to be
carried by one of the natives, and ordered one of our black women to
carry a jar of water. Thus provided, and forsaking all other effects, we
started at exactly nine o'clock, following our two natives as guides.
Our course was about E.N.E. The moon was bright, but the great height of
the grass shadowed the narrow path so that neither ruts nor stones were
visible.
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