When I prepared to start on a journey across the Esyira country it was not practicable for me to take Moses along, so I arranged to leave him in charge of a missionary. Shortly after my departure the man was taken with fever, and the chimpanzee was left to the care of a native boy belonging to the mission. The little prisoner was kept confined by a small rope attached to his cage in order to keep him out of mischief. It was during the dry season, when the dews are heavy and the nights chilly, as the winds at that season are fresh and frequent. Within a week after leaving him he contracted a severe cold, which soon developed into acute pulmonary troubles of a complex type, and he began to decline. After an absence of three weeks and three days, I returned to find him in a condition beyond the reach of treatment. He was emaciated to a living skeleton: his eyes were sunken deep into their orbits, and his steps were feeble and tottering; his voice was hoarse and piping; his appetite was gone, and he was utterly indifferent to anything around him. During my journey I had secured a companion for him, and when I disembarked from the canoe, I hastened to him with this new addition to our little family. I had not been told that he was ill, and was not prepared to see him looking so ghastly. When he discovered me approaching, he rose up and began to call me as he had been wont to do before I left him, but his weak voice was like a death-knell to my ears. My heart sunk within me as I saw him trying to reach out his long, bony arms to welcome my return. Poor, faithful Moses! I could not repress the tears of pity and regret at this sudden change, for to me it was the work of a moment. I had last seen him in the vigour of a strong and robust youth, but now I beheld him in the decrepitude of a feeble senility. What a transformation! I diagnosed his case as well as I was able and began to treat him, but it was evident that he was too far gone to expect him to recover. My conscience smote me for having left him, yet I felt that I had not done wrong. It was not neglect or cruelty for me to leave him while I went in pursuit of the chief object of my search, and I had no cause to reproach myself for having done so. But emotions that are stirred by such incidents are not to be controlled by reason or hushed by argument, and the pain that it caused me was more than I can tell.