ually and half unconsciously I fell into the habit of speaking the
native tongue, until I suddenly found that the practice was obtaining
such a firm hold upon me that I was forgetting French altogether; whilst
it was only with difficulty that I could form grammatical sentences in
English. I soon came to the conclusion, therefore, that it was necessary
for me to hold much more converse in English than I had hitherto done;
and from the moment that this curious "scare" suggested itself to my
mind, Yamba and I and our children spoke nothing but English when we were
by ourselves in the evening. I cultivated my knowledge of English in
preference to any other language, because I knew that if ever we should
reach civilisation, English and not French would be the language spoken.
It may be interesting also to mention that one of the first indications I
had that I was losing my English was an inability to _think_ in that
language.

In general appearance I was now absolutely like a black, and wore only an
apron of emu skin as a protection against the scrub I encountered when on
the walk-about. In the ordinary way I never had any marks upon me with
the exception of these scratches. Of course, on festive occasions, I was
gaily painted and decorated, and no doubt I would have been initiated
into manhood, and borne the tribal and other marks, were it not for the
fact that I was a man when I came among the blacks.

It is obviously impossible for me to record minutely the happenings of
every day, mainly because only the salient incidents stand out in my
mind. Besides, I have already dealt with the daily routine, and have
probably repeated myself in minor details.

A constant source of grief to me was the weakly condition of my two
children, who I knew could never attain mature age. And knowing they
were doomed, I think I loved them all the more.

Yet so incomprehensible is human nature that I often found myself
speculating on what I should do after they--and Yamba--were gone; because
by this time my faithful helpmate was growing ominously feeble. You must
remember that when I first met her on the desert island she was an oldish
woman, judged by the native standard; that is to say, she was about
thirty.

The death-bed of my boy is a scene I can never forget. He called me to
him, and said he was very glad he was dying, because he felt he would
never have been strong enough to fight his way through life, and endure
daily what