"Woe is me! good enough to produce fine dreams
of the roast beef of old England, but nothing else. I have
become very thin, though I was so before; but now, if you
weighed me, you might calculate very easily how much you
might get for the bones. But--we got a cow yesterday, and I
am to get milk to-morrow.... I grieve to write it, poor
poodle 'Chitane' was drowned" [15th January, in the Chimbwe];
"he had to cross a marsh a mile wide, and waist-deep.... I
went over first, and forgot to give directions about the
dog--all were too much engaged in keeping their balance to
notice that he swam among them till he died. He had more
spunk than a hundred country dogs--took charge of the whole
line of march, ran to see the first in the line, then back to
the last, and barked to haul him up; then, when he knew what
hut I occupied, would not let a country cur come in sight of
it, and never stole himself. We have not had any difficulties
with the people, made many friends, imparted a little
knowledge sometimes, and raised a protest against slavery
very widely.
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