would have to bury him beside the others," he was simply told "that he
might as well die there as anywhere else."

Finally a few things were allowed for the journey, and the sorrowful
party started homeward, Mr. Price very ill, and his wife having lost the
use of her feet and legs.

With the scantiest possible provision they had to face a journey of
upwards of a thousand miles to Kuruman, but they set forward. Just as
they were beginning to take hope after their heavy trials, and to think
of renewed efforts for the Lord, Mrs. Price was called to her rest. "My
dear wife," wrote the sorrowing husband, "had been for a long time
utterly helpless, but we all thought she was getting better. In the
morning I found her breathing very hard. She went to sleep that night,
alas! to wake no more. I spoke to her, and tried to wake her, but it was
too late. I watched her all the morning. She became worse and worse, and
a little after mid-day her spirit took its flight to God who gave it. I
buried her the same evening under a tree--the only tree on the immense
plain of Mahabe. This is indeed a heavy stroke, but 'God is my refuge
and strength, a very present help in trouble.'"

Finally the bereaved missionary was met by Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie, who
had started to join the Makololo Mission, and, as all turned their steps
towards Kuruman, they were rejoiced by meeting Robert Moffat, who,
having heard of the disaster, and that Mr. Price, with the remnant of
the party, were on the road, had gone out in search of them. All
returned sorrowfully to Kuruman, and the ill-fated Makololo Mission
collapsed.

Robert Moffat and his wife watched the progress of the Mission at Inyati