252 LODGES IN THE WILDERNESS 



strive to gather up the plains into their blight- 

 ing grip. 



Sometimes, when the firmament is very clear 

 and the fingers of the wind stray gently 

 through the tresses of the night, I lift my eyes 

 to the familiar stars and realise that again the 

 sky has. gathered the throbbing desert to its 

 breast and covered Bushmanland with the 

 folds of its purple mantle. It is then I unlock 

 my storehouse of dreams and live once more 

 through vanished days of strenuous effort and 

 nights of wonderful mystery. 



THE END 



