Here the Diary ends abruptly.
The last entry is Thursday, the 24th October.
I continued work until the Sunday following; but after the services
of the day I felt a little more than simply tired. On Monday,
however, the funerals had to be taken in the afternoon. That was the
last duty done in camp. Then I knew enteric was upon me, and on
Friday, the 1st November, they carried me into hospital.
After more than a month in hospital, during convalescence (but while
mentally affected) I ran away to the Van As's. It was a case of
mental delusion. The whole issue of the war depended upon me--could I
be kept in hospital, then the English would win; was I allowed to
escape, the Boers would win.
After ten days in camp again (for I was wisely left alone), it slowly
dawned upon me (while waiting for a permit to return home) that every
one had been bought over to conspire against me. So I left the camp
one evening after dark. Mr. Becker was the only man to be trusted, and
to the Beckers forthwith I fled.
In another ten days my brother arrived to take me home.
During these days of blank, my chief pastime was to recite the Burial
Service.
When once home, complete recovery came speedily.