334 THE GREAT THIRST LAND. 



Oh, for a glass of that pure liquid that tumbles down 

 with merry laugh over our own hill- sides ! Champagne, 

 Imperial Tokay, Johannisberg, all the choice wines of 

 the world, would not in this region be at all to be com- 

 pared with it. 



The stuff we have to drink would anywhere else be 

 deemed filth. It is full of animal life, decayed vegetable 

 matter and excrement, yet it is all that can be obtained. 

 Alum will not clear it, boiling makes it like pea-soup, and 

 gives it a strong flavour of the animalculse cooked in it, 

 while the charcoal filters I brought from London are 

 utterly useless, for the reason that they clog in no time, 

 and refuse afterwards to permit the passage of a single 

 drop of liquid. 



The plan I adopted was to pour the water into a 

 woollen stocking, and let it drip into a dish placed 

 beneath ; it may have been a very inefficient filter, still 

 it was the best I could improvise. 



Next day we arrived at noon at a splendid out- 

 spanning-place, as far as scenery was concerned. The 

 coppies were high, sometimes quite a thousand feet, 

 and invariably covered with trees. The giant baobab 

 here is to be found, the most wonderful of all vegetable 

 productions. 



We inspanned at an early hour, and passed over an 

 immense plain, with trees in clumps scattered here and 

 there. Quagga, many descriptions of antelopes, with 

 ostriches, were numerous, but were left undisturbed, 

 as all were occupied with the hope of reaching water as 

 soon as possible. And, indeed, it was time we did so, for 

 the poor oxen were suffering fearfully, old Acker man 

 especially indicating that much more of such hardship 

 would be beyond his powers of endurance. This 



