- Category: John McDouall Stuart - Sixth Expedition
- Written by John McDouall Stuart
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Friday, 31st October, Clay-pans East of Mount Hay. I felt a little improvement this morning, which I hope will continue; and I think I have reached the turn of this terrible disease. On Tuesday night I certainly was in the grasp of death; a cold clammy perspiration, with a tremulous motion, kept creeping slowly over my body during the night, and everything near me had the smell of decaying mortality in the last stage of decomposition and of the grave. I sincerely thank the Almighty Giver of all Good, that He, in His infinite goodness and mercy, gave me strength and courage to overcome the grim and hoary-headed king of terrors, and has kindly permitted me yet to live a little longer in this world. Auld, who was in attendance upon me on that night, informed me that my breath smelt the same as the atmosphere of a room in which a dead body had been kept for some days. What a sad difference there is from what I am now and what I was when the party left North Adelaide! My right hand nearly useless to me by the accident from the horse; total blindness after sunset--although the moon shines bright to others, to me it is total darkness--and nearly blind during the day; my limbs so weak and painful that I am obliged to be carried about; my body reduced to that of a living skeleton, and my strength that of infantine weakness--a sad, sad wreck of former days. Wind variable.