WE PITCH OUR CAMP 157 



that we reached Pella, somewhat breathless, 

 but none the worse for our adventure. 



The teams were soon inspanned, so after 

 thanking Father Simon and the nuns for their 

 kind entertainment, and paying a farewell visit 

 to the student of Aquinas in his dingy hut, we 

 made a start for Brabies, — " the place of the 

 withered flower," as the Bushmen named it. 

 At Brabies it was that we had decided to pitch 

 our hunting camp, for we heard good reports 

 as to the water in the vley there. No one, 

 so far as we knew, had been there lately, but 

 a heavy thunder-storm had been observed to 

 pass over the vicinity of Brabies about a week 

 previously. Our objective was about thirty 

 miles away. There was a slight improvement 

 in the weather. The cool spell of the distant 

 sea, owing to last night's wind, still lay upon 

 the grateful desert. 



We pushed on steadily but could not travel 

 fast, for the sand was heavy and the angular 

 limestone fragments lay thick upon our course. 

 However, we reached our destination just as 

 the sun was going down. Brabies had no rock- 

 saucer; its water was held in a vley, or shallow 

 depression with a hard clay bottom. This 

 vley was several hundred yards in circum- 

 ference. It lay on an almost imperceptible 



