began to rub him with a little oil. In the evening he took a
little food, and tried to sleep; but notwithstanding that he
seems to have taken something to bring on sleep, he threw
himself restless from one side to the other, calling his
wife several times by her name. After having walked out of
his tent with the assistance of his servant, he ordered tea,
and remained restless on his bed. When it was past midnight,
his old dragoman, Yusuf Moknee, who watched in his tent,
made some coffee, in order to keep himself awake; upon which
Mr. Richardson demanded a cup of coffee for himself; but his
hand being so weak that he could scarcely raise the cup, he
said to Moknee: '_Tergamento Ufa_,'--'Your office as
dragoman is finished;' and repeated several times, with a
broken voice, '_Forza mafishe, forza mafishe le-koul_,'--'I
have no strength, I have no strength, I tell you,' at the
same time laying Mahommed's hand on his shoulder. Feeling
death approaching, he got up in a sitting posture, being
supported by Mahommed, and soon expired, after three times
deep breathing. He was entirely worn out, and died quietly,
about two after midnight, Tuesday, 4th March
(Jumed-el-awel), without the least struggle. His servant
then called into the tent the other people and the Kashalla,
or officer of the Sheikh, who had come along with them from
Zinder, in order to be witness, and while wrapping the body
of the deceased in three shirts which they had cut up,
ordered the people of the village to dig a grave for him.
They then shut up whatever of the luggage of Mr. Richardson
was not locked up, and prepared everything for their journey
to Kuka. Early in the morning they lifted the body, wrapped
up as it was, upon Mr. Richardson's carpet, and carried him