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with the ship's chandler, ordering ten more crates of bananas, to get us to Port Said. Then he came upstaris, and when I found him he was stretched out on the bed, saying that the heat had got him down. I felt him, and he was burning up. His temperature was 101 and he said all the strength had suddenly gone out of him. Fortunately there was a doctor aboard, summoned to examine the men who have dysentery, and he looked Bill over and pronounced it heat stroke. We had to keep Bill under two electric fans, with cold towels and an ice bag on him, all day, and he was very restless and miserable. 

Our new animals were put over the side by a crane, and they look wonderful - all of them tame, and in good cages, well padded to keep out the weather that we shall have later on. 

To-day is not quite as unbearable as yesterday. The e is a little breeze, and while it is hot, it is not quite so humid. One can work without running rivers of perspiration all the time. The doctor told us, however, that the temperature ashore as 117, and that here there are few cases of sun stroke, but many of heat stroke. Towards evening the gibbon that was so ill, died. 

We had one more excitement before the weary day ended. Just as we were waiting for the pilot to come aboard so that we could sail the boy told the captain some men wanted to see him on deck. The captain went out, to find two of his Chinese crew in an ugly frame of mind. They said that the sailors on the nearby German ship had had the day off - it was true, for they had all been over to see our animals and had made a general nuisance of themselves all day. Jennier said he was sick of the Chinese, you couldn't tell them anything; if he said, "Stand back from the tiger cage" they just laughed. "That's why the Japs have to shoot 'em," he said philosophically. However, when our crew got impertinent, the Captain threw them off the bridge, and then there was a row! Two of them got their baggage and said they were going ashore. Others refused to do any work. [[strikethrough]] The Captain [[/strikethrough]] One of them kicked the captain in the shins, and another tried to hit him with a bottle, and he had to do a little ju jitsu on them to get them back to the forecastle head where they belong. Then they all started fight among themselves, throwing soy bean bottles and screaming at the top of their lungs. Mutiny on top of everything else we have had today seemed like a little too much. 

September 3 - 

A stiff breeze today makes the ship a much more comfortable place to be. Bill still has a temperature, and is very weak. The captain has decided to jail two of the mutineers in Port Said. Otherwise the day is uneventful - the big news being that the shoebills ate three fish apiece. Usually they are a bit picky about food, and there is always a chance that they will mope when upset by anything like a sea voyage. The big mawas kuda died, from a combination of general unhappiness, refusal to eat proper food, [[strikethrough]] September 4 [[/strikethrough]] - and violent diarrhoea. I did not have the courage to tell Bill for some hours, in fact not until evening, when his temperature was nearly norma. Gaddi skinned him, and it was pathetic to see how little remained of the tremendous beast - just a small basketful of red hair.