368 THE GREAT THIRST LAND. 



indifferent to what I did. To get into the saddle was 

 a work of labour, but with assistance I succeeded. One 

 of the Massaras led the way, the other two held me in 

 my seat by the thighs. It was a long, long tramp, and 

 much of the way was passed over in a semi-conscious 

 state. The night air had freshened me up, the motion 

 of riding had, I believe, assisted, for the stupor which 

 had previously overpowered me commenced to give way. 

 At least, I remember clearly the bushmen indicating 

 by signs that my rifle should be ready for use. We then 

 entered some dense reeds, among these we apparently 

 wandered for hours ; at length I became cognisant 

 that we were lost. If so, it did- not matter much, so 

 perfectly indifferent I felt to everything. However, the 

 bushmen again moved forward and gained an open space. 

 They had scarcely done so when two lions roared, ap- 

 parently from the place we had just left. Anxiety for the 

 mare conscientiously I do not think it was for myself 

 made me make a further effort to pull myself together ; 

 and while the Massara lay at length upon the earth, the 

 better to see anything approaching, I stood prepared to 

 use my weapon. 



This state of watch continued fifteen or twenty 

 minutes, when I thought I heard the report of a gun. 

 In an instant my attendants were on their feet, and 

 pronounced the mystic word kiloe, and leading my horse 

 off to the left of the course we had formerly pursued, 

 brought me to my encampment in less than an hour. 

 On looking at my clock it was exactly half-past three. 

 For nearly a week others had to hunt to keep the 

 wagon supplied with meat. To Umganey's unremitting 

 attention I believe I owe my life. 



It is impossible, and perhaps not desirable, to 



