240 THE GEEAT THIRST LAND. 



world like so much; and a good feed of it will put 

 my people in good temper, and prepare them to face 

 coming difficulties. 



About sunset, I put some shot- cartridges in my 

 pocket, and went down to the water. In a quarter of 

 an hour I returned with lour coran, three ducks, and 

 two hrace of Namaqua partridges the latter killed at 

 one shot out of a large flight that passed. The boys 

 had a glorious feed that night, and so had the jackals, 

 whose pleasant tittering laugh was to be heard till 

 daylight terminated darkness. Bidding my friends 

 good-bye at sunrise, I reached Brackfontein (Salt Water 

 Fountain) at eleven o'clock. 



This is the last farm, and has a most deserted 

 woebegone appearance. The velt here is perfectly level, 

 with a distant range of hills to the northward, running 

 from east to west. The grass is so burnt up that the 

 surface of the ground looks as if it had been parched, 

 while the brack pond, covering several acres, is thick 

 with thousands of different species of water-fowl. 



On approaching the farmhouse my wagon mired 

 quite up to the hubs in a ditch, and all the efforts of 

 my cattle could not draw it out. I did not wish to 

 unload, always a tedious process, and was debating what 

 course to pursue, when the proprietor of the homestead, 

 without being asked, and solely out of the goodness of 

 his heart, sent down his team of oxen, which were made 

 fast to the end of my treck-tow, and with a strong pull, 

 and a pull together, took us out of our difficulties. 



I found here assembled several Boers, and an 

 Englishman of the name of Proud. The young gentle- 

 man informed me that he had been an officer in the Eoyal 

 Engineers, or Artillery, and that now he was the state 



