NDOVA FALLS SICK—STUNG BY A SCORPION OR BITTEN BY A CENTIPEDE—REFUSES TO EAT—GROWS WEAKER IN SPITE OF ALL OUR CARE AND NURSING—ONE MORNING I FIND HIM DEAD—WE MAKE A COFFIN FOR HIM AND BURY HIM IN THE FOREST

The following morning, to my astonishment and no small consternation, Ndova was ill, and refused to eat the berries and nuts given to him, of which ordinarily he was very fond. He looked at them, but would not even take them in his hands. His body was hot, and it was evident that he had a high fever. His heart beat very fast. It was very strange, I thought; he had been so well the evening before.

I said to Rogala: "I wonder if Ndova could have been stung by a scorpion or a centipede during the night, or perhaps a small poisonous snake entered his house and bit him when he tried to play with it."

"No," said Rogala, "monkeys are like people; they are afraid of snakes and do not play with them."

I took Ndova on my knees and examined his body, on which I discovered a red spot, showing that he had been stung either by a scorpion or a centipede.

"Look!" I said to Rogala, pointing out the place to him. "Ndova has been stung by a scorpion or a centipede."

"It is so," replied Rogala.

There are two or three species of centipedes and scorpions; the very poisonous ones are dark red, almost black. Rogala looked carefully at the red spot, and then said in a thoughtful and sad voice: "I am afraid it is all over with Ndova, for we black men die of the sting of this bad kind of scorpion and centipede, or else, if we escape, we are very ill. Their stings are often as dangerous as the bites of poisonous snakes."

I immediately gave a little dose of medicine to Ndova, but it did not seem to do him any good. That night we all went to sleep feeling very sad.

At break of day I went to Ndova to see how he was. I said, "Good-morning, Ndova," but he remained quiet in his little house. He did not come out, as he had always done before, and jump on my shoulder, and give a chuckle, which probably meant in the monkey language of the ndova tribe, "I am glad to see you." Instead of the chuckle I heard an indistinct sound, and he looked at me in a forlorn way as if to say, "I am very ill."

I felt his body. It was hotter than the day before, and his pulse beat so quickly that I felt he could not live much longer.

I shouted to Rogala: "Ndova is very, very ill; come and look at him;" and he came.

"Truly," he said, "Ndova is very, very ill indeed."

"If Ndova dies," I said, "we lose a very good friend who has been invaluable to us in this forest. Never shall we get another monkey as intelligent."

In the course of a few days poor Ndova had grown so thin that we could hardly recognize him. His eyes had entirely lost their mischievous expression, and could only give us a blank look. I put a little jacket on him which I made out of a woollen shirt. I made a little bed, shaking the leaves thoroughly, and laid him upon it, and covered him with what was left of the woollen shirt. Then I said: "Ndova, I am going into the forest to get berries for you."

When I returned I put some berries before his lips, but his mouth did not open to eat them. "Eat these, Ndova," I said to him; but he only answered me by a look. Before dark I went to say good-night to him, but he had not the strength to move his arms, which were under his little blanket. I tucked him in, and while I was doing so, his eyes looked at me in a blank sort of way. I said to him: "Dear Ndova, I wish you could know how much we think of you, and how we shall miss you if you die."

"I do not think we shall find Ndova alive to-morrow morning," I said to Rogala, who was by my side.

I went to bed with a heavy heart, thinking how many times Ndova had rescued us from hunger and perhaps starvation. I awoke several times during the night, and each time I got up and went to see if Ndova was dead. His life was ebbing away, his pulse was very low, but he still breathed.

In the morning I found Ndova dead. He looked as if he were asleep under his blanket. I shouted to Rogala: "Ndova is dead." Then we stood mournfully by his side, and Rogala said with a sad voice: "Ndova will follow us no more in the forest."

We cut a big log, split it in two, and dug a big hole inside. This was to be the coffin of Ndova, and we laid his body in it.

After this we dug a grave at the foot of a tree near Rogala's house and collected stones. When everything was ready, Rogala and I carried the coffin to the grave, followed by Shinshooko, Alapai, and Akenda-Mbani.

With my knife I carved upon the bark the following inscription:

HERE LIES NDOVA
OUR FRIEND

Then we put the coffin into the grave, covered it with earth, and surrounded it by stones. My hunters and I hardly spoke to each other that day.