Chapter XI. 

 A SECRET OF THE ORANGE RIVER. 



M 



ANY are the stories told at the outspan fires 

 of the South African transport riders — 

 some weird, some romantic, some of native 

 wars, some of fierce encounters with the wild beasts 

 of the land. Often, as I travelled with my friends 

 up country, we stopped to have a chat with the 

 rugged transport riders, and some strange and 

 interesting information was obtained in this way. 

 The transport rider — the carrier of Africa — ^with 

 his stout waggon and span of oxen, travels, year 

 after year, over the rough roads of Cape Colony, 

 and beyond, in all directions, and is constantly 

 encountering all sorts and conditions of men — 

 white, black, and off-coloured ; and in his wander- 

 ings, or over his evening camp-fire, he picks up 

 great store of legend and adventure from the passing 

 hunters, explorers, and traders. 



One night, after a day's journey through the 

 bush-veldt, we lay at a farmhouse, near which was 

 a public outspan. At this outspan two transport 

 riders were sitting snugly over their evening meal ; 

 they seemed a couple of cheery, good fellows — one 

 an English Afrikander, the other an Englishman, 

 an old University man, and well-read, as we 

 afterwards discovered — and nothing would suit them 

 but that we should join them, and take pot-luck. 

 Attracted by their hospitable ways, and the enticing 



