Met old Tollie’s[24] brother; rejoiced.

Found sick orphan girl I visited first day; much better.

Nice dinner; nice supper; “vet schaapie en vet ou bokkie” (fat lamb, fat little goat), which we bought.

Wonder what I would have done were the Van As’s not here; so happy with them; everyone always so cheerful[25].

At tea called to pray with dying little girl; went immediately, and found tent full of weeping and wailing women; the little girl was in death’s throes; short prayer, and when I finished her spirit had fled; mother frantic; hard, very hard to know how best to comfort.  A woman is a wonderful network of cross-wires, and when these wires get unstrung or entangled, the result is most distressing.  In presence of such, one feels hopelessly lost, and all one can do is to—­walk away.  And yet, for downright, dogged perseverance—­for silent, struggling endurance—­for quiet, patient suffering—­commend me to a woman.  What would become of Man without the Woman!

* * * * *

Saturday, August 31.—­Glum; just returned from dying boy, Herklaas; young, strong; father Ceylon; visited him yesterday; said he did not want to die because his father was away, and he had to care for the mother.  Touched late last night, and found him very bad; went down again with doctor[26]; this morning he was better, but this afternoon worse, and now (10 p.m.) I find him dying.  I am very, very down-hearted to-night, and am tempted to think that, after all, God—­No!  I won’t write it, because I believe this is a temptation of Satan!  But oh! we did pray so fervently that God should spare his life; he is still so young and so strong.  Found some more inquisitive onlookers.  Some folks will put themselves to endless inconvenience to be able to witness a deathbed.  They revel in it.  I am vexed in my soul, and feel as though I could knock down everyone of them.

Funerals twice to-day.

This morning I buried seven; “Het wordt snellijk afgesneden” (For it is soon cut off).

This afternoon Mr. Becker buried six.

There were twenty corpses in morgue tents this morning.

This afternoon a column struck camp half a mile north of our Camp.

To-morrow is Sunday; I am quite unprepared, and must hold two services.

Walked through Camp this evening (10 p.m.); found several women busy round fire; all to warm “pap” (poultice) for sick children.  Pneumonia is playing havoc.

Better stop; feeling tootoo to-night; and besides, my two letters have again been returned by the Censor, and I am too cross for anything.

FOOTNOTES: 

[Footnote 1:  Mr. Van As and Mr. Fourie laid out the floor for my tent, and encircled it with a 9-inch wall.]

[Footnote 2:  Each tent was numbered.]

[Footnote 3:  Not real church elders; each, however, had a block of tents under his care.]