miles by night; I had been very unwell for
the last three or four days, and to-day I was almost too ill to sit on
my horse; I had fever, pains all over, and a splitting headache. The
country being all scrub, I was compelled as usual to ride with a bell
on my stirrup. Jingle jangle all day long; what with heat, fever, and
the pain I was in, and the din of that infernal bell, I really thought
it no sin to wish myself out of this world, and into a better, cooler,
and less noisy one, where not even:--

"To heavenly harps the angelic choir,
Circling the throne of the eternal King;"

should:--

"With hallowed lips and holy fire,
Rejoice their hymns of praise to sing;"

which revived in my mind vague opinions with regard to our notions of
heaven. If only to sit for ever singing hymns before Jehovah's throne
is to be the future occupation of our souls, it is doubtful if the
thought should be so pleasing, as the opinions of Plato and other
philosophers, and which Addison has rendered to us thus:--

"Eternity, thou pleasing, dreadful thought,
Through what variety of untried being,
Through what new scenes and changes must we pass
The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me," etc.

But I am trenching upon debatable ground, and have no desire to enter
an argument upon the subject. It is doubtless better to believe the
tenets taught us in our childhood, than to seek at mature age to
unravel a mystery which it is self-evident the Great Creator never
intended that man in this state of existence should become acquainted
with. However, I'll say no more on such a subject, it is quite foreign
to the matter of my travels, and does not ease my fever in any way--in
fact it rather augments it.

The next morning, the 10th, I was worse, and it was agony to have to
rise, let alone to ride. We reached the Lightning Rock at three p.m.,
when the thermometer indicated 110 degrees. The water was all but gone
from the native well, but a small quantity was obtained by digging. I
was too ill to do anything. A number of native fig-trees were growing
on this rock, and while Gibson was using the shovel, Mr. Tietkens went
to get some for me, as he thought they might do me good. It was most
fortunate that he went, for though he did not get any figs, he found a
fine rock water-hole which we had not seen before, and where all the
horses could drink their fill. I was never more delighted in my life.
The thought of movin