xv WHERE A MAN CAN RAISE A THIRST 153 



might collapse at any moment. Inured though I am 

 to hardship, the terrible strain was beginning to 

 tell on me so much, that the desire to fling myself 

 down and await the cool of evening became well- 

 nigh irresistible. My tongue swelled up and stuck 

 to the roof of my mouth, my lips were cracked and 

 bleeding with the dry heat, even my light rifle 

 seemed to have acquired the weight of a heavy 

 baulk of timber, but the absolute necessity of a 

 weapon of defence, in case of untoward circum- 

 stances, precluded any idea of leaving it behind. 

 Moreover, the axe with which I was blazing the 

 trees seemed to grow in weight as my strength 

 failed, and the effort to wield it became so painful 

 that, once or twice, I almost decided to desist, 

 speciously arguing that a rest would freshen me and 

 enable me to reach camp. But apart from feeling 

 that it would be disastrous to show any weakness 

 before my tracker, Hyiah, who, to prove himself a 

 man, was simply dragging himself along, every 

 muscle drawn in acute suffering, the thought of my 

 men behind me, dying of thirst and awaiting my 

 return as their only hope of salvation, gave me 

 strength and courage to totter on. I also reflected 

 on those gentle and refined beings who treasure the 

 baubles so wondrously carved and wrought from 

 the beautiful white stuff the quest of which had 

 landed me in my predicament, and wondered 



