body, Chowpereh was sent across to lash it to a tree.  He was carried far down the stream; but being an excellent swimmer, he succeeded in his attempt.  The bales were lashed around the middle, and, heaved into the stream, were dragged through the river to the opposite bank, as well as the tent, and such things as could not be injured much by the water.  Several of the men, as well as myself, were also dragged through the water; each of the boys being attended by the best swimmers; but when we came to the letter-boxes and valuables, we could suggest no means to take them over.  Two camps were accordingly made, one on each side of the stream; the one on the bank which I had just left occupying an ant-hill of considerable height; while my party had to content itself with a flat, miry marsh.  An embankment of soil, nearly a foot high, was thrown up in a circle thirty feet in diameter, in the centre of which my tent was pitched, and around it booths were erected.

It was an extraordinary and novel position that we found ourselves in.  Within twenty feet of our camp was a rising river, with flat, low banks; above us was a gloomy, weeping sky; surrounding us on three sides was an immense forest, on whose branches we heard the constant, pattering rain; beneath our feet was a great depth of mud, black and loathsome; add to these the thought that the river might overflow, and sweep us to utter destruction.

In the morning the river was still rising, and an inevitable doom seemed to hang over us.  There was yet time to act—­to bring over the people, with the most valuable effects of the Expedition—­as I considered Dr. Livingstone’s Journal and letters, and my own papers, of far greater value than anything else.  While looking at the awful river an idea struck me that I might possibly carry the boxes across, one at a time, by cutting two slender poles, and tying cross sticks to them, making a kind of hand-barrow, on which a box might rest when lashed to it.  Two men swimming across, at the same time holding on to the rope, with the ends of the poles resting on the men’s shoulders, I thought, would be enabled to convey over a 70 lb. box with ease.  In a short time one of these was made, and six couples of the strongest swimmers were prepared, and stimulated with a rousing glass of stiff grog each man, with a promise of cloth to each also if they succeeded in getting everything ashore undamaged by the water.  When I saw with what ease they dragged themselves across, the barrow on their shoulders, I wondered that I had not thought of the plan before.  Within an hour of the first couple had gone over, the entire Expedition was safe on the eastern bank; and at once breaking camp, we marched north through the swampy forest, which in some places was covered with four feet of water.  Seven hours’ constant splashing brought us to Rehenneko, after experiencing several queer accidents.  We were now on the verge only of the inundated plain of the Makata, which, even with the last year’s rain, was too horrible to think of undertaking again in cold blood.