which had escaped the keen eye of the chief,
and as milk and maize could be obtained
in exchange for them, we resolved to remain
a few days to recruit. The day after our
arrival, a Kafir was struck down insensible
by a kick from an ox. Like most men who
go wandering about the world, I had some
little knowledge of  surgery, and taking a
lancet from my pocket I bled him, and
restored him to consciousness.

Never was fame equal to that which I
acquired by this achievement; Jack's beanstalk
was a slow grower compared to it,
and a luxuriant bay-tree would scarce have
yielded sufficient wreaths for my head.
Within an hour I was beset by a swarm of
miserable objects—the halt, maimed,and blind
of a horde of savages—all vociferously
demanding to be cured. Most of these
applicants were beyond my aid, and only to very
few of them was I able to afford any relief;
yet not one of my patients went away
dissatisfied, for the worst among them fancied
my expression of powerlessness to be a spell
of sovereign efficacy.

Then followed a bevy of invalid quadrupeds,
respecting whose ills I was too
ignorant to offer any opinion; but that did not
dishearten my Kafir public, who presently
raised me to the honours of necromancy.
During the week of our stay, I was constantly
importuned to avert the evil eye, make rain,
restore blighted maize, and perform a hundred
other magnificent impossibilities.

Many also came to entreat my evil
offices in casting malignant spells upon their
enemies, and (strong proof of the revengefulness
of the Kafir character), these last were
the only class who offered remuneration;
when their suit was denied they left me in
such fierce indignation that, had an evil eye
been really capable of inflicting suffering, I
should have been the most wretched creature
about the kraal.

When we again resumed our journey it was
in improved health and spirits, as well as in
much better style, for my sister and her little
girl rode together on the sheepskin saddle of
one of our pack-oxen; while the other carried,
by turns, the remainder of the party. But,
however these new acquaintances might
lighten our journey, they were certainly far
from smoothing it, for never in my life did I
get such a shaking as our horned steeds
administered to us as they stumped leisurely
along at their usual jolting walk, breaking
occasionally into a playful, grotesque trot, that
taught us practically what rough-riding was.
A day or two's travel subdued these
exuberances, and we became used to the pace,
and matters progressed more satisfactorily.

After leaving the kraal we followed the
route pointed out by the Kafirs, as leading
towards Natal, and we soon found that it
brought us into a wilder and more sandy
region than any we had hitherto traversed.
As we proceeded, it became almost bare of
trees, the few it possessed being too sparsely
leaved for shelter; the game also became
scarcer, and its place had to be supplied by
ostriches' eggs, for which we groped in the
sand.

Another great trouble now befell us in the
loss of our cow. She had gone out to graze
with the other cattle, and when Hans went to
drive them in, she was not to be found.
Search was made for her in every direction,
but no traces of her were to be seen. Hans
maintained that the Kafirs had followed us
and stolen her, because she was of a valuable
fatherland breed, and that they had cunningly
effaced both their own spoor and hers.
However that might be, we never saw her again,
and her loss was greatly felt, especially on
account of the poor little child, already
condemned to such hardships and privations.

It seemed as if rain had not gladdened this
land for months; every day it grew more
barren and arid, and the ponds along our way
fewer and smaller, until, on the fourth day,
they disappeared altogether, and ostrich
eggs were no longer to be found. All the
sufferings of our past journey dwindled to
shadows, compared with those we endured
that day, as we toiled over an immense
plain, whose pale glittering sand was scarce
tinted by the spare wiry grass that grew
among it, and exposed to the full glare of
an African sun, without a breath of air to
cool our burning temples, or a drop of water
to moisten our parched lips—utterly worn
out and exhausted, yet compelled to drag our
weary limbs along, by the knowledge that to
pause where we were, was certain death. The
land before us was so arid that we knew
that the ponds, which might be on our
way, were hourly evaporating in the burning
atmosphere. It seemed as if Death, in one of
its most fearful forms, were pressing close
upon us. The poor oxen bowed mournfully,
as if they could hear his coming footsteps.

Night fell sultry and unrefreshing, and still
we crept on, though our exhaustion was now
so great that we would, I believe, have
willingly sunk down and died. Throughout the
miserable day no murmur of complaint was
heard. Even little Birdie laid her weary
golden head on her mother's breast, and
prepared, unmurmuringly, to yield up her
dawning life.

The moon rose over the dreary landscape,
changing it as if by enchantment into a fairy
scene, as the glittering sand reflected the
moon-rays, and filled the air with a silvery
haze that shed softness and beauty around.
But it brought no breath of cooler air, nor
flashed out any gleam of water to gladden our
fading eyes. More slowly—more despairingly
than ever—we crept on. Silence had
fallen upon us; even the oxen had ceased to
do more than pant, when one suddenly lifting
up his head, uttered a long wistful low.