A MOTLEY CARAVAN 195 



It was a quaint caravan which next morning 

 scarped the north-eastern shoulder of the 

 T'Oums Mountain, in search of El Dorado. 

 The guide — a little, wizened creature, cer- 

 tainly more than half Bushman — and I, led 

 the procession. Next came the pack-oxen, 

 conducted by their respective owners, but 

 generally under Hendrick's charge. The 

 loads were miscellaneous in character, but not 

 heavy. They comprised my bedding, provi- 

 sions, delving tools and receptacles for such 

 reptiles, insects and plants as we might find 

 it worth while to collect. From the top of one 

 load the handle of the cradle pointed towards 

 heaven — or rather it would have had it not 

 swayed so much from the gait of the ox. I 

 wished for a small flag to attach to it. Next 

 came a mixed crowd, about twenty in number. 

 These were mere camp followers, but they in- 

 sisted on accompanying me. They included 

 men, women and children. Among the latter 

 were two ape-like babies, slung on their 

 mothers' backs. Andries, for the time, had 

 remained behind with the wagon. 



The track was unexpectedly good; much 

 better in fact than the one over which we had 

 travelled before reaching Kuboos. To the 

 left, in the direction of the Orange River, the 



