Suddenly, in May, the very hottest month of the year, when life is a burden, even with all that can be done to mitigate the effects of the climate, and when for Europeans to go out in the sun unprotected is at the peril of their lives, the prisoners were removed from the prison at Ava to Amarapoora, and after that to Oung-pen-la. They were made to walk barefoot a journey of nine miles, chained together two by two. The Burman guards, by a refinement of cruelty, instead of making the journey in the cool of the day or night, set out at eleven o’clock in the day, so that they were under the scorching sun all the time, the sand and gravel like burning coals to tread upon, first blistering their feet, and then taking the whole of the skin off. One of the European prisoners, a Greek, who when taken out of prison was in his usual health, fell down on the way, and expired in an hour or two after their arrival, doubtless from sunstroke. The others reached Oung-pen-la more dead than alive. The sufferings of Judson’s devoted wife were scarcely less severe than his own all this time, although she was not imprisoned. During all the months he lay imprisoned at Ava she was harassed with the most consuming anxiety for her husband, and had constantly to exert herself to the utmost to get him food into the prison. During that time her child was born. The removal of the prisoners to Oung-pen-la occurred when the babe was only three months old. It occurred suddenly and unknown to her and when she found him gone, she knew not whither to go seeking him. She sent first to the place of execution, fearing the worst, but they were not there; and then she had to follow the party as best she could, finding them at last at Oung-pen-la. The very morning after their arrival there, the little Burmese girl she had with her, to help with the baby, was taken ill of smallpox, and the babe of three months took it from her. After that Mrs. Judson herself was taken seriously ill, and for two months lay helpless on a mat on the floor of the wretched little hut, where she had taken up her abode, to be near her husband in the prison. When the child recovered, the mother was unable to nurse her, so that, being deprived of her usual nourishment, the infant suffered greatly. Neither a nurse nor a drop of cow’s milk could be procured in the village. However, by making presents to the jailers—nothing could be done without presents—she obtained leave for Dr. Judson to come out of prison daily, in order to carry the emaciated little creature round the village, to the houses of those women who were suckling children, and to beg them for pity’s sake to give each a little, to keep the life in the child!