Only a few days after Dr. Good left Efulen I was stricken with the fever. The approach of it is very peculiar, especially the first time. I mistook it for a spell of homesickness; for one becomes extremely depressed. I thought I had been brave, but all at once the very pith of my resolution was gone. I felt that I had overrated my courage. The life which I had chosen seemed a doom from which there was now no honourable escape. My feelings recoiled in an agony of revolt that was mentally prostrating. It was the fever and I did not know. It was night and I was walking near the house, but I was too tired to continue walking, and I lay down on the ground in the dim starshine and wept for home,—it was many years ago and I was very young. I was not surprised that I had a severe headache, for I thought it was the result of my mental agitation. The next day I was worse, and the following night I was delirious the whole night, but morning brought relief. I did not think it could be fever for the symptoms were not what I had expected. We were pitiably helpless. At last, a happy thought striking Mr. Kerr, he exclaimed: “I have a thermometer: that will tell us.” “It would tell us,” said I, “if we knew what normal temperature is; but for my part I don’t know, though I think it is 212°”—perhaps I was still delirious. Mr. Kerr suggested that it might be marked on the thermometer. And, if not, I said that he might take his own temperature first, and so ascertain the normal. However, it was marked on the thermometer at ninety-eight and two-fifths degrees, or thereabouts. Mr. Kerr then took my temperature and found that it was 105°. In the evening it was 106°. Next day it was the same, and so the fever raged for several days. We dispatched a messenger to Dr. Good, reporting to him also my temperature for two days. It was the tenth day of the fever before he reached me, though he started immediately; for the roads were at the worst. He had no expectation that I would be alive. Meantime I had begun to take quinine. The wet season was now at the worst. The tent was not sufficient to turn the heaviest rains, which sometimes came through and saturated the bed. Between showers the sun came out so strong that I was compelled to leave bed and rush outside for fresh air. After several days of this, Mr. Kerr suggested that my bed be moved into the house of the workmen, which had only an earthen floor with a considerable slant to it. But it had at least a thatch roof that would turn rain and would afford a better protection against the sun. There was a square opening for a window over which we hung a salt-bag. Then followed a long fight for life, through several weeks, and a slow victory due chiefly to the kindness and untiring care of my associates. Dr. Good after his arrival nursed me day and night. What is usually known as African fever ends fatally or otherwise in a few days. I therefore concluded long afterwards that it must have been malarial-typhoid.