And so my ideal has been realised; and I am proud possessor of a house. Really word "house"[61] seems too inadequate, too insignificant wherewith to name it.

(Later)-Short joy; rudely awakened to sorrows of life; mother just gone by weeping bitterly; went out and took her home to her tent; daughter dying in hospital; Ferreira (admitted yesterday, fever). This morning still conscious when I spoke to her, and when we read and prayed together. And now?

Have just returned hospital; father there; girl evidently dying; fever 105; quite unconscious; strong, strapping girl of nineteen; knelt by bed and prayed; nothing impossible with G.o.d; while there is life there is hope.

Will postpone description of house till another occasion; under this cloud one's ink gets cloggy and one's pen listless.

Spent morning in hospital, and after-little visiting.

Funerals, five children; "Laat de kinderen" (Suffer the little children). Mother fainted at grave; great consternation.

Large laager troops close by.

Sunday, October 6.-No diary yesterday; spent morning at river[62]; hour's walk; small party, seven; persuaded Mr. Fourie to join; wife betterish.

Forgot for the while there was such a thing as a camp, and in the beauties, rugged and rude, of Nature able to enjoy life once more and banish thoughts of sickness, hospitals, deaths, funerals, etc. The grand old river!

Returned early with Mr. F. and did few hours' visiting.

To-day most busy and tiring day, as all Sundays are.

Service at ten and again at three.

Funerals at 5 p.m., four; after, prayer meeting.

Luckily (!) weather threatening, so announced there would be no meeting to-night; thankful in my soul.

And now the gentle drops making music on my roof; really it is too grand; one feels like living again to be in room where you can stand upright all over.

Miss Ferreira died last night; buried this afternoon; "Zalig zijn de dooden die in den Heere sterven" (Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord); large crowd at cemetery.

But to think that so young and so strong a person should so suddenly be called away; "Levende gaan zij de eeuwigheid binnen" (literally, Living they enter eternity).

Miss Van Tonder very, very low in hospital; cannot bear thought of her perhaps dying; it will be too, too sad; so young, so good, so patient. G.o.d only knows!

Yesterday eight buried; mostly children.

Let me rather fill pipe; get into bed, and listen to soothing rain without.

Tuesday, October 8.-Getting lazy with diary; effects of comforts of house, no doubt. Just copied Dr. M.'s list of patients; total 150; mostly in new camp; wonder how on earth am to find time to visit these tents; and this is but one of the three doctors' lists! So one's time is just made up with visits to sick, and for other work there is no opportunity. One gets "daarom" (literally, therefore) a bit hopeless with the amount of work. O for a few more to help!

Hospital runs away with whole morning; and positively cannot neglect that work, and then come the funerals every other day.

Buried four children this afternoon; one girlie I often visited; "En zij brachten kinderkens tot Jezus" (And they brought children to Jesus).

One cannot help smiling sometimes in midst of death; the comic element will crop up everywhere and the sublime verges on the ridiculous. Old Mrs. Griesel, delirious, "Ach, minheer, en moet ik nou sterve en dit zonder eers een glas karren melk to kry?" (O, sir, and must I die now, and that without one gla.s.s of b.u.t.termilk?); wonder, wonder how many will get well in that fatal ward. Give Miss Van Tonder up, also Mrs. Steyn and Mrs. Griesel-but!

Four children struggling with Death just now; among these a tiny little girl three years-the dearest, sweetest, little cherub imaginable. It knocks one over completely to see mother kneeling silently by bedside. There is pathetic element in the utter helplessness of human love. How hard to witness suffering with a breaking heart and to be-helpless!

Our new hospital matron arrived; let us hope for better things now.[63]

Found old Englishman (Hockins) in hospital; chat and prayer in English; my first in camp.

Big load of boards arrived this morning; now there will be coffin material again for a short season.[64]

To-morrow afternoon is service, and nothing ready yet.

Thursday, October 10.-Sad and gloomy day.

Early visit hospital, and on entering fatal ward saw the two empty places-Mrs. Griesel and Miss Van Tonder. O, the sorrow, the bitter sorrow, of it! Went to morgue tents and saw her again in death who had suffered so long and patiently these last few weeks. Rest after weariness-sweet rest at last. But where, O where, are our prayers? May G.o.d save me from sin of unbelief and doubt during these days!

"Nie pijn nie, Minheer L., maar net zoo gedaan" (No, no pain, Mr. L., but only so weary). Thus, when I asked her on my last visit if she had any pain.

That tent too much for me now, and could not enter there to-day. G.o.d forgive my neglect!

Three others (children) also dead hospital.

Went late last evening to tents in "infected area"; found three children all very bad, and one boy struggling in Death's throes; poor little chap; he is gone since, and we buried him this afternoon.

Thirteen coffins; so sad, so painfully sad. May I never forget the weeping crowd around the open graves!

"En G.o.d zal alle tranen van hunne oogen afwisschen" (And G.o.d shall wipe away all tears from their eyes); sang, "Voor eeuwig met den Heere" (For ever with the Lord). And now, where are these dead? What would I not give to have short minute's talk with that good young girl! What would she tell me? We read together so often, prayed so often, spoke about enternal things so often. And now! What now? How good and wise of G.o.d to withhold from our knowledge some certain things.

Our life here on earth must be one of Faith and Hope.

Feel so horribly low this evening.

Visits in camp, before hospital; again before funerals; also after funerals; but making no headway; hundreds of sick all about, and hundreds who can never be visited.

Great concern yesterday; officials want now to remove my tent[65], and I positively cannot do without same; and with all this worry had to prepare afternoon service; sudden inspiration and wonderful grace to boot; "Komt herwaarts tot mij alien" (Come unto me all ye that labour).

Service of great comfort to own heart.

Saw Superintendent this morning; inflexible; I am powerless because I was given the roof.

One has to stoop greatly during these days.

It hurts, it humiliates, it chafes; and one needs extra grace.

Sat.u.r.day Night, October 12.-Saw most distressing case yesterday; Mrs. Herbst, 398; bare and empty tent; one bundle of things; one small bundle wood; few cooking utensils, and on the floor a bed (!)-couple bags as mattress and a few blankets. And there sat the mother with hands clasped round her knee and a little girl beside her; "En het jij dan nie ander goed nie?" (And have you no other goods?) "Nee, Minheer, dit is al wat ik bezit; hulle het alles van mij weggeneem" (No, sir, this is all I possess; they took everything from me).

"En waar is die ander kindje?" (And where is the other little one?) "Minheer, hij is gister begrave" (Sir, he was buried yesterday). Alone and cast-away; no friends; poverty-stricken. Such sights enough to make one's heart freeze within.

Called at hospital again before afternoon visits to find out tent number of Nellie van Tonder's parents; no one could tell; so came away determined to find tent all same; pa.s.sed doctor; "Hullo, Padre, forgot to tell you of very bad case 715; afraid you won't find child alive though;" so hurried away to 715; and actually there found myself in very tent I wanted to visit. But I was too late for the child. Carried him away ten minutes before I came. Such is life! "When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions."

Instead of having to comfort and cheer in their loss of loving daughter, had to pray G.o.d for grace to bear a new and grievous burden of grief.

(Later)-Just returned hospital; a little girl moaning most pitiably, so I went to see what was matter; admitted this afternoon. Inflammation of stomach; fearful pain; such a dear, sweet little thing (can hear her moaning just now). Talked to her this afternoon, and asked her if she knew Who had made her sick? "Ja, Oom" (Yes, uncle). "Wie dan, my kind?" (Who then, my child?) "Khaki Oom" (khaki uncle). Collapse on my part.