18 LODGES IN THE WILDERNESS 



to the tiny spring of living water that trickles 

 from the depths and lies like a precious jewel 

 hidden in the dark, narrow cavern at Inkruip, 

 — or to where the flaming, red-belted cone of 

 Bantom Berg glares over the dragon-folds of 

 the dune-devil sprawling at its feet, I should 

 go in fear of finding empty sardine-tins and 

 broken bottles lying among the fragments of 

 prehistoric pottery and flint implements which 

 were but recently the only traces of man to be 

 found in those abodes of solitude. 



The Bushmanland Desert is but little known. 

 A few nomads — some of European and some 

 of mixed descent — hang on its fringe. Here 

 and there ephemeral mat-house villages, whose 

 dwellers are dependent on the sparse and un- 

 certain bounty of the sky, will, perhaps, be 

 found for a season. But when the greedy sun 

 has reclaimed the last drop of moisture from 

 shallow " pan ' or sand-choked rock-saucer, 

 the mat-houses are folded up and, like the 

 Arabs, these dwellers steal silently away from 

 the blighting visage of the Thirst King. But 

 the greater portion of Bushmanland may be 

 ranked among the most complete solitudes of 

 the earth. The lion, the rhinoceros, and, in 

 fact, most of the larger indigenous fauna have 

 disappeared from it — with the autochthonous 



