--* Stalking Expeditions in the Xyika 



and I must thirst on thirst on, like my black companions, 

 who brood upon it all in dull resignation. . . . 



1 he pulse-beats grow ever weaker, less perceptible, 

 and faster ; more agonising grows the thirst ; we ourselves 

 more lethargic. . . . 



The only useful possession at this midnight hour is 

 one's weaon, and the knowlede that in these circum- 



A FLOCK OF SACRED IBISES FLEW RIGHT OVER MY HIDING-PLACE 



stances one must crush down one's feeling must set the 

 coloured men an example of patient endurance of thirst, 

 although their sufferings are not nearly so great as mine. 



Thus drag and linger the slow hours. The hyaena 

 remains on, but in the end we scarcely notice it is there. 

 As if everything had conspired against us, the sky, 

 here in the proximity of the mountain-range, remains 

 clouded and dark. The temperature keeps hot and 



VOL. ii. 589 15 



