Mrs. Castelan lies sick in 76; husband Bloemfontein Camp; three
children sick; also daughter just out of hospital (1-1/4 months).
Called in at 217; Du Preez; very nice, clean people; daughter very
sick; pneumonia; found her very much distressed, and that because the
thought of being buried without coffin was so repulsive; "Net sous
een beest" (just like an animal). We must not anticipate God!
Am much distressed that 383, who was getting well so nicely, and who
smiled when I looked in yesterday, has died.
Mother died few weeks ago, and sister few days ago.
Near the coalfields[23] I was called to see Mrs. Van der Walt; 191;
heart bad; most desperately anxious to be taken "home," and quite
ready too; wonder if she will live through the night!
When a person decides and is determined to die, the chances at
recovery are very poor indeed.
Mr. Otto called and asked me to take prayer meeting 2 p.m. "En Samuel
bad den Heere" (And Samuel prayed unto the Lord).
Then came the inevitable funerals, ten, among others Annie Botha. Oh,
the sorrow of it! the sorrow of it! Nothing is more regular than that
dreary procession every afternoon at four o'clock.
Several in blankets; "Ik ben verstomd, ik deed mynen mond niet open,
want gij hebt het gedaan" (I was dumb, I opened not my mouth because
thou didst it).
Met old Tollie's[24] brother; rejoiced.
Found sick orphan girl I visited first day; much better.
Nice dinner; nice supper; "vet schaapie en vet ou bokkie" (fat lamb,
fat little goat), which we bought.
Wonder what I would have done were the Van As's not here; so happy
with them; everyone always so cheerful[25].
At tea called to pray with dying little girl; went immediately, and
found tent full of weeping and wailing women; the little girl was in
death's throes; short prayer, and when I finished her spirit had
fled; mother frantic; hard, very hard to know how best to comfort. A
woman is a wonderful network of cross-wires, and when these wires
get unstrung or entangled, the result is most distressing. In
presence of such, one feels hopelessly lost, and all one can do is
to--walk away. And yet, for downright, dogged perseverance--for
silent, struggling endurance--for quiet, patient suffering--commend
me to a woman. What would become of Man without the Woman!
* * * * *
Saturday, August 31.--Glum; just returned from dying boy, Herklaas;
young, strong; father Ceylon; visited him yesterday; said he did not
want to die because his father was away, and he had to care for the
mother. Touched late last night, and found him very bad; went down
again with doctor[26]; this morning he was better, but this afternoon
worse, and now (10 p.m.) I find him dying. I am very, very
down-hearted to-night, and am tempted to think that, after all,
God--No! I won't write it, because I believe this is a temptation of
Satan! But oh! we did pray so fervently that God should spare his
life; he is still so young and so strong. Found some more inquisitive
onlookers. Some folks will put themselves to endless inconvenience to
be able to witness a deathbed. They revel in it. I am vexed in my
soul, and feel as though I could knock down everyone of them.
Funerals twice to-day.
This morning I buried seven; "Het wordt snellijk afgesneden" (For it
is soon cut off).
This afternoon Mr. Becker buried six.
There were twenty corpses in morgue tents this morning.
This afternoon a column struck camp half a mile north of our Camp.
To-morrow is Sunday; I am quite unprepared, and must hold two
services.
Walked through Camp this evening (10 p.m.); found several women busy
round fire; all to warm "pap" (poultice) for sick children. Pneumonia
is playing havoc.
Better stop; feeling tootoo to-night; and besides, my two letters
have again been returned by the Censor, and I am too cross for
anything.