Called in to 620; old Mrs. Roux; sick; prayer; asked me to come again.

Wish I could press a b.u.t.ton and summon papa to do the praying part for me!

Number of deaths so far (according to Mr. Becker's funeral lists) about 420.

Since I've been here (25 days), we have buried about 300. Appalling figures!

This afternoon (Mr. Becker), funerals eight.

Monday, September 16.-Flood.

Our Camp one sheet of water and mud; furrow too small for the rush of water; great inundations; many tents flooded; great misery; and how about the cooking business? Everything to be done outside (we are among the few privileged with a kitchen). Women have to wade through water and mud; wet wood; raining continually. Just picture the scene!

Came to one tent; in front of door one ma.s.s clay and mud; inside awful; and yet there lay a girl very dangerously sick, and another also down.

425, Mrs. Booysen; skeleton; completely flooded; everything wet; and the floor! Yesterday they got her a bedstead; till now she had to lie on the floor; sick daughter; wonder where she will sleep. Floor? Impossible.

In another tent rain leaked through; water all over.

Another matter which tells of fresh misery. The sanitary sheds and screens are all some distance out of the camp. Imagine the painfulness of affairs on days like this, when one hardly dares put head out of doors.

Overheard conversation between old man and doctor:

You, what do you want here? Go away from this -- tent! Voetzak, voetzak! Get away from this -- tent!" This was to an old man. It makes one's blood boil. There is no real-no, not a particle of-sympathy.

In 631, wife told me doctor (another) came past, and she, meaning that he was looking for her tent (third morning already and he had not yet come), attempted to direct him. "You go to --!" was all she got; and she has three little ones in very precarious state.

Visited in New Camp; several sick there.

652, sick wife and child. (Nice biltongs[48] hanging up; but for all my hints, got nothing!)

631, Kotze; doppers; two girls measles; prayer; repeated Psalm.

518, little child (mother dead two days ago) died this after noon.

Found another very sick girlie, 532, Venter; took orange wine, arrowroot, milk; but I doubt whether she'll "make it"; too far gone.

Talk with Mrs. Steyn, who has lost three children; such a good little woman; while there an old Tante came, evidently to tell all her tale of woe, so I cleared.

Funerals ten, all children.

Meant to have spoken on "Heere, maak mij bekend mijne einde" (Lord, make me to know mine end), but on discovery at graveyard that all were children, spoke on "The Reaper and the Flowers."

Miss Snyman in hospital, moaning awfully just now; just been there; poor girl; and she disturbs all the others.

Spruit nicely down; Mr. Becker not come; can't get across evidently.

Visits to hospital. In women's ward "beterschap"; little Betty and Miss Taljaard much better; wonder if!

Read to them about Jairus' daughter; but the other Betty "wasn't there no more" to hear.

Pancakes; five easily.

Tuesday, September 17.-Fine, glorious day; people all busy airing and drying things; life again.

69, old Mr. Theunissen, very weak; old man; old wife; floor. Hard luck; "Ach, Minheer, ik het zoo gewens dat mij zoon mij ooge moet toe druk, en nou is hij in Ceylon, en ik voel dat ik nie langmeer hier zal wees nie" ("O sir, I did so wish that my son should close my eyes, and now he is in Ceylon, and I feel that I won't be here much longer").

Saw Mr. Mentz being led home to tent (from hospital) by Mr. Booysen; anxiety; knows nothing about daughter's death, and his wife lies ill in bed. What's to be done? Mr. Mentz (one month in hospital) still very weak. Brought him to the Van As's for some tea while I planned how best to act. Decide to break news to him just before he arrives at tent; very painful task indeed. Caught the two up just before tent door, and told him to stop a minute. Now G.o.d help me and him!-Thank G.o.d, it is over! Rude, cruel awakening! O the sorrow, the sorrow of it! Prayed with family, and left with heavy, leaden heart.

Why is there so much sorrow and bitterness in this life?

Last week, when his wife visited him in hospital, he gave her half an orange to give his Nellie, and on another occasion a biscuit-and all the while his girlie was under the cold, dark sod.

Visited Van den Heever, 68. Also 626, 631, 624, 70, 74.

Went with trembling heart to 532; "Waar is die kind?" ("Where is the child?"). "Nee, Minheer, zij is vannach om een uur dood" ("Sir, she died last night at one o'clock").

Found the Van Zyls, 499, and the Robertsons, 503, had also lost babies during last few days.

424, Hasebroek; sick child; baby died yesterday.

482, Hetts; little daughter very sick; wonder if! Such a sweet little thing.

Getting sick to death of doctor; such a terrible amount of brag and big talk, always about himself; always dread his calls; can never get so far as to return; a regular thorn in the flesh.

Visits to hospital.

Mr. Van der Merwe still very bad; men's ward full of boys; some very bad.

Martie Snyman recognised me to-day, and asked me to pray for her; mother there too.

Mr. Becker funerals; six.

Wednesday, September 18.-Bitterly cold night; frost; glorious day.

Regular holiday; did precious little "leeraarts" (pastoral) work to-day; grand clean up; fine bookcase of big box; grand!

Baby[49] comes regularly now to clean up.

Tent very close to-day; hot weather; contemplating building house; busy with estimates to-day; will need about 3,500 bricks; such edifice will be real boon when hot weather sets in.

Our kitchen is palatial, and the admiration of the whole camp, and I guess hundreds have cast envious eyes upon it. And yet within it is but 4 feet by 7 feet, its height is 5 feet 10 inches; but it has a pitch roof, with coffee tins beaten out to serve for zinc. It is built of good, raw brick, and the walls are 4 inches thick, plus two more inches of substantial clay plaster. It has a window without panes, and a doorless doorway, and yet a marvellous structure both in workmanship and usefulness. Total cost about 3. Let me not forget its chimney-made of a half-sheet of zinc, and beaten into a cone (1s.). Now with my mind's eye I see the structure sparkling in the gentle moonbeams. A thing of beauty is a joy for ever. Enough!

Rigged up church again; little nearer in, and this afternoon three of us went and put everything geometrically straight-poles, pegs, ropes, etc.-to prevent second collapse. We are going to sink heavy stones into the ground as anchors, and the whole structure we are going to make rigid with wire ropes. This all to be done on the morrow. It is going to serve as school; good!

There must be some two thousand children here, and yet I doubt if fifty go to school; pity; children run loose, absolutely neglected.

Too much sickness about; fear the deterioration.