246 



A Breath from the Veldt 



tree, and saw far away in the distance a line of malala palms that I knew meant 

 water. On coming up to them, however, only a dry spruit appeared where 

 water had been, but was no longer. Then another half hour's ride, and straight 

 before me there stood two white tent-covers of waggons, with blue smoke 

 curling up between them. I need hardly say how delighted I was. Two 

 minutes later I was enjoying a welcome and a cup of coffee, whilst Brenke was 

 burying his nose in the muddy pool. 



AND THERE ARE OCCASIONALLY A FEW HOLES 



Fenter, the Dutch hunter whose family I now encountered, was standing 

 here waiting for his mates, the two Randsbergs, who were away shooting hippo- 

 potami in the Lundi River, a day's march east. He described the last trek as 

 being a cruel one even for good oxen, and seemed to think we were madmen 

 for undertaking it with donkeys, which go only half the pace of the former. 



When Brenke had well refreshed himself, I saddled again, and rode back to 

 meet Oom and the donkeys. They presented a most forlorn and jaded appear- 

 ance as they plodded along wearily through the brown dust and sand ; but a 

 day's rest put us all right again, and our small worries were soon forgotten in 



