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- Жюль Верн
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- Пятнадцатилетний капитан
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- Стр. 269/354
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From
May
11th
to
15th
.
--
The
caravan
continues
its
march
.
The
prisoners
drag
themselves
along
more
and
more
painfully
.
The
majority
have
marks
of
blood
under
their
feet
.
I
calculate
that
it
will
take
ten
days
more
to
reach
Kazounde
.
How
many
will
have
ceased
to
suffer
before
then
?
But
I
--
I
must
arrive
there
,
I
shall
arrive
there
.
It
is
atrocious
!
There
are
,
in
the
convoy
,
unfortunate
ones
whose
bodies
are
only
wounds
.
The
cords
that
bind
them
enter
into
the
flesh
.
Since
yesterday
a
mother
carries
in
her
arms
her
little
infant
,
dead
from
hunger
.
She
will
not
separate
from
it
.
Our
route
is
strewn
with
dead
bodies
.
The
smallpox
rages
with
new
violence
.
We
have
just
passed
near
a
tree
.
To
this
tree
slaves
were
attached
by
the
neck
.
They
were
left
there
to
die
of
hunger
.
From
May
16th
to
24th
.
--
I
am
almost
exhausted
,
but
I
have
no
right
to
give
up
.
The
rains
have
entirely
ceased
.
We
have
days
of
"
hard
marching
.
"
That
is
what
the
traders
call
the
"
tirikesa
,
"
or
afternoon
march
.
We
must
go
faster
,
and
the
ground
rises
in
rather
steep
ascents
.
We
pass
through
high
shrubs
of
a
very
tough
kind
They
are
the
"
nyassi
,
"
the
branches
of
which
tear
the
skin
off
my
face
,
whose
sharp
seeds
penetrate
to
my
skin
,
under
my
dilapidated
clothes
.
My
strong
boots
have
fortunately
kept
good
.
The
agents
have
commenced
to
abandon
the
slaves
too
sick
to
keep
up
.
Besides
,
food
threatens
to
fail
;
soldiers
and
pagazis
would
revolt
if
their
rations
were
diminished
.
They
dare
not
retrench
from
them
,
and
then
so
much
worse
for
the
captives
.
"
Let
them
eat
one
another
!
"
said
the
chief
.
