The same as yesterday. Most of us are ill. My teeth chatter and my
body is both hot and cold. A storm more wicked never wailed about a
ship. Lev-el-Hedyd calls it the shrieking voices of the hundred
millions of Mehrikans who must have perished in similar weather.



16th June


It is many days since I have touched this journal. A hateful sickness
has been upon me, destroying all energy and courage. A sort of fever,
and yet my limbs were cold. I could not describe it if I would.

Nofuhl came into the cabin this evening with some of his metal plates
and discoursed upon them. He has no respect for the intellects of the
early Mehrikans. I thought for a moment I had caught him in a
contradiction, but he was right as usual. It was thus:

Nofuhl.
They were great readers.

Khan-li.
You have told us they had no literature. Were they great readers of
nothing?

Nofuhl.
Verily, thou hast said it! Vast sheets of paper were published daily
in which all crimes were recorded in detail. The more revolting the