about 100 pounds of the best of the meat, and hanging it in strips upon
the trees until our departure, I handed over to Wylie the residue of the
carcase, feet, entrails, flesh, skeleton, and all, to cook and consume as
he pleased, whilst we were in the neighbourhood. Before dark he had made
an oven, and roasted about twenty pounds, to feast upon during the night.
The evening set in stormy, and threatened heavy rain, but a few drops
only fell. The wind then rose very high, and raged fiercely from the
south-west. At midnight it lulled, and the night became intensely cold
and frosty, and both Wylie and myself suffered severely, we could only
get small sticks for our fire, which burned out in a few minutes, and
required so frequently renewing, that we were obliged to give it up in
despair, and bear the cold in the best way we could. Wylie, during the
night, made a sad and dismal groaning, and complained of being very ill,
from pain in his throat, the effect he said of having to work too hard. I
did not find that his indisposition interfered very greatly with his
appetite, for nearly every time I awoke during the night, I found him up
and gnawing away at his meat, he was literally fulfilling the promise he
had made me in the evening, "By and bye, you see, Massa, me 'pta' (eat)
all night."

May 9.--The day was cold and cloudy, and we remained in camp to rest the
horses, and diminish the weight of meat, which was greater than our
horses could well carry in their present state. On getting up the horses
to water them at noon, I was grieved to find the foal of my favourite
mare (which died on the 28th March) missing; how we had lost it I could
not make out, but as its tracks were not any where visible near the camp,
it was evident that it had never come there at all. In leaving our last
halting place my time and attention had been so taken up with getting the
weak horse along, that I had left it entirely to Wylie to bring up the
others, and had neglected my usual precaution of counting to see if all