away, hospital and all, to what seemed destruction. She was rescued, but what the feelings of those on board were, save that they had a lurid glow of glory in them and a determination that they would die in a manner creditable to La France, I know not. The feelings of those ashore I am faintly able to realise, and they must have been painful in the extreme, for the Minerve is beloved; many a man, nay, almost every man, knows that he owes his life to the skill and care he received on board her when he had "that attack." No man. is, I think, regarded as being initiated into the inner life of Congo Français until he has been carried on board her in a dying condition from the fearful Coast fever, and duly pulled round. It would be an immense advantage to the other settlements along here had they such an institution. She is infinitely better than the so-called "Sanatorium" on higher ground. The idea of the efficacy of such stations is one of the most dangerous illusions rife on the West Coast—I even learn now that this Government is thinking of doing away with the floating hospital and building one ashore which will not have anything like so good a record to show as the wards of the Minerve now have.
After our incident with the authorities we pull ourselves together, and arrive at Hatton and Cookson's Wharf with a delusive dash, and glad I am to get there and return to all the comforts, society, and safety associated with it.
