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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"Stories by English Authors: Africa (Selected by Scribners)"


Nature never looks desolate when man has not yet laid his hand upon her
breast; she is only lovely. But when man has been, and has passed away,
then she looks desolate.
"Well, I passed into the kraal, and went up to the principal hut. In
front of the hut was something with an old sheepskin _kaross_ (rug)
thrown over it. I stooped down and drew off the rug, and then shrank
back amazed, for under it was the body of a young woman recently dead.
For a moment I thought of turning back, but my curiosity overcame me; so
going past the dead woman, I went down on my hands and knees and crept
into the hut. It was so dark that I could not see anything, though
I could smell a great deal, so I lit a match. It was a 'tandstickor'
match, and burnt slowly and dimly, and as the light gradually increased
I made out what I took to be a family of people, men, women, and
children, fast asleep. Presently it burnt up brightly, and I saw that
they too, five of them altogether, were quite dead. One was a baby. I
dropped the match in a hurry, and was making my way out of the hut as
hard as I could go, when I caught sight of two bright eyes staring
out of a corner.


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