THE LEGEND OF JAN PRINSLOO'S KLOOF. 371 



seemed to Goodrick and his wife to increase the 

 gloom and uncertainty of their hfe in the kloof. At 

 length a climax arrived. Christmas, but a sombre 

 one, had sped, and South African summer, with its 

 heat, its flies, and other manifold troubles, was now 

 at its height. 



On the 15th of January, 1861, a day of intense 

 heat was experienced. All day the landscape had 

 sweltered under a still oppression that was almost 

 unbearable, and the very animals about the farm 

 seemed touched and depressed by some mysterious 

 influence. 



Towards nightfall dark clouds gathered together 

 suddenly in dense masses ; in the distance, long, 

 rolling thunder-peals were heard approaching in 

 strangely slow, yet none the less certain movement. 

 Cupido, the old Hottentot, had fidgetted about the 

 house a good deal all the evening, and finally, just 

 before ten o'clock, he asked his master if he might 

 for that night sleep on the floor of the kitchen, in 

 order, as he put it, to attend more quickly to the 

 horses, if anything scared them. Goodrick noticed 

 that the old man looked agitated, and good-naturedly 

 said " Yes." 



Still slowly onward marched the stormy batteries 

 of the sky, until at eleven o'clock they burst 

 overhead with a terrific crash (preceded by such 

 lightning as only Africa can show), that literally 

 seemed to tear and rend each nook and corner of 

 the gorge, reverberating with deafening repetition from 

 every krantz and hollow and rocky inequality in the 

 rude landscape. Rain fell in torrents for a time, 

 then ceased. Again and again the thunder broke 

 overhead, while the lightning played with fiery 



