Great coughs; little coughs; deep coughs; shrill coughs; hoarse
coughs; long coughs; short coughs; coughs that are no coughs at all.
Wonder how many are to die to-night!
* * * * *
Wednesday, August 28.--Now if there is anything that rubs me up the
wrong way, it is to see a crowd around a tent doorway, watching the
end. Yesterday I lost my temper at 35, and gave it hot all round.
Such barefaced curiosity is revolting; I hate it.
Yes, 35 (21 years) passed away last night, and so did 415 (Mrs.
Meintjes), whom I visited late last evening.
This morning the black list was laid on my table; twelve[17] in the
night--339, 415, 125, 253, 180, 526, 419, 35, 353, 450, I didn't
expect 415 to live long.
The night has been a most restless one; "Ja, minheer, ons het
vannacht nie rust gehad nie" ("Yes, sir, we had no rest last night")
(morgue tents men).
I woke at 2 a.m. with the tramp of these bearers removing
corpses[18].
One longs for day, and the night seems never to end.
Twice funerals--morning at 11 a.m. (six), "Leer ons alzoo onze dagen
tellen" ("So teach us to number our days"); afternoon, 4 p.m. (six),
"En de dooden werden geoordeeld uit hetgeen in de boeken geschreven
was, naar hunne werken" ("And the dead were judged out of those
things which were written in the books, according to their works").
Our wood has given in, and we are forced to bury in blankets. But let
me not think on it! It is painful to remember, and our people feel
very deeply.
The Van der Walts managed to put together an apology for a coffin,
and there was something pathetically comic about that production. I
think it was made of candle and milk boxes.
That reminds me, what queer pastimes some folks can have. One man
casually informed me that he attends all the funerals! But some folks
unconsciously delight to wander in the sombre shadows of life. A
funeral to me is a most fatiguing duty; more so when one has to give
an address at the graves, and there is no time for preparation except
on the march to the burying ground. I am getting reckless, for I am
forced absolutely to rely on impromptu grace. I tremble, when I think
what I risk each day.
Visits only a dozen, owing to funerals.
Sad about 91; very bad.
599, 602, 606, 16, 238, 327, all new tents, with great affliction;
must go soon again.
Called to 117; Nel; young wife; just received tidings of her
husband's death in Ceylon; desperately stricken; hard, hard case.
Called to hospital; Annie Bothma[19]; strong young girl (twenty);
very bad; just struggling to live; mother holding hand. Foeitog!
(alas!) So well and strong; horrid pneumonia; have visited her again,
and cannot get reconciled that she should die. And yet she yearns to
be "ontbonden" (loosed), and begs of me to pray to that effect. Now,
God forgive me, but this dying girl's request I cannot, cannot accede
to. Humanly speaking, she simply cannot live; it is only her
abnormally strong constitution that fights so grimly. I have wrestled
with God for her life. Oh, she must not, may not, die! Think of the
weak, frail mother--of the father far, far away in Ceylon! "O ye of
little faith"; and yet I firmly believe God can still spare her life.
Yesterday, row about the miserable meat[20]. Some women rather
violent and loose with tongue; to-day committed to imprisonment.
Yesterday my letters were returned by the Censor. I boiled over for
some time; such a little snob, who is too big for his boots!
Pinpricks; will fight it out to-morrow.
* * * * *
Thursday, August 29.--Went back to hospital after writing above, and
then I did indeed pray as the sick girl desired. God took her home at
about two this morning. Poor child! she did suffer so very much, and
yet withal so patiently; "Die doctor het mij gif ingespuyt en gif
ingege daarom lei ik zoo zwaar" ("The doctor injected poison into me,
and gave me to take poison; that is why I suffer so bitterly"); very
likely morphia had to be injected. Whenever I repeated a verse to her
she would say the lines in advance.
After breakfast I went to village for first time; saw Magistrate;
obtained residential pass; hunted high and low for boards for coffin
for Annie Bothma. At last, after despairing search, succeeded in
getting six boards and two boxes; hope they will be enough wherewith
to fashion some sort of a coffin.
Dined with the Beckers.
Deaths last night--8, 129, 401, 52, 427, 213, 239, and one in
hospital.
Very trying afternoon among the dying.
One woman just giving her last breath when I entered to pray for her;
lamentation. Roaring lion, because of the crowd of inquisitives;
stood at doorway and addressed them; said I was ashamed of their
conduct; boiled over. Simply will not stand such things; and yet such
things are inevitable with a camp of 650[21] tents all crowded
together; with hundreds swarming all over, and countless children. Am
going to put a stop to children visiting morgue tents[22]; should not
be allowed; will see Superintendent to-morrow.