A week later (August 24, 1850) he writes to the Directors that no convenient access to the region can be obtained from the south, the lake being 870 miles from Kuruman:
"We must have a passage to the sea on either the eastern or western coast. I have hitherto been afraid to broach the subject on which my perhaps dreamy imagination dwells. You at home are accustomed to look on a project as half finished when you have received the co-operation of the ladies. My better half has promised me a twelvemonth's leave of absence for mine. Without promising anything, I mean to follow a useful motto in many circumstances, and _Try again_."
On returning to Kolobeng, Mrs. Livingstone was delivered of a daughter--her fourth child. An epidemic was raging at the time, and the child was seized and cut off, at the age of six weeks. The loss, or rather the removal, of the child affected Livingstone greatly. "It was the first death in our family," he says in his Journal, "but was just as likely to have happened had we remained at home, and We have now one of our number in heaven."
To his parents he writes (4th December, 1850):
"Our last child, a sweet little girl with blue eyes, was taken from us to join the company of the redeemed, through the merits of Him of whom she never heard. It is wonderful how soon the affections twine round a little stranger. We felt her loss keenly. She was attacked by the prevailing sickness, which attacked many native children, and bore up under it for a fortnight. We could not apply remedies to one so young, except the simplest. She uttered a piercing cry previous to expiring, and then went away to see the King in his beauty, and the land--the glorious land, and its inhabitants. Hers is the first grave in all that country marked as the resting-place of one of whom it is believed and confessed that she shall live again."
Mrs. Livingstone had an attack of serious illness, accompanied by paralysis of the right side of the face, and rest being essential for her, the family went, for a time, to Kuruman. Dr. Livingstone had a strong desire to go to the Cape for the excision of his uvula, which had long been troublesome. But, with characteristic self-denial, he put his own case out of view, staying with his wife, that she might have the rest and attention she needed. He tried to persuade his father-in-law to perform the operation, and, under his direction, Dr. Moffat went so far as to make a pair of scissors for the purpose; but his courage, so well tried in other fields, was not equal to the performance of such a surgical operation.
Some glimpses of Livingstone's musings at this time, showing, among other things, how much more he thought of his spiritual than his Highland ancestry, occur in a letter to his parents, written immediately after his return from his second visit to the lake (28th July, 1850). If they should carry out their project of emigration to America, they would have an interesting family gathering:
"One, however, will be 'over the hills and far away' from your happy meeting. The meeting which we hope will take place in Heaven will be unlike a happy one, in so far as earthly relationships are concerned. One will be so much taken up in looking at Jesus, I don't know when we shall be disposed to sit down and talk about the days of lang syne. And then there will be so many notables whom we should like to notice and shake hands with--Luke, for instance, the beloved physician, and Jeremiah, and old Job, and Noah, and Enoch, that if you are wise, you will make the most of your union while you are together, and not fail to write me fully, while you have the opportunity here....