302 
THE CARAVAN CONFUSED BY LIGHTNING. 11, 12 Sept. 
guide our course. The stars were concealed in a cloudy sky, and 
flashes of lightning, repeated every minute, and accompanied by 
distant thunder, dazzled and bewildered our sight, so that even the 
Hottentots themselves became confused, and lost their way. Not 
one of the drivers knew with certainty whither to guide us, and the 
whole caravan were obliged to halt, while they went about from 
waggon to waggon to consult which way we ought to go. W alking, 
some out on one side and some on the other, to feel if any beaten 
track was nigh, they came back as often disappointed. Some drivers 
were for taking one course, while others resolved on the opposite. 
Several waggons at last set out, in exactly the wrong direction, 
and were driving away confident of being in the right. In this 
dilemma, recollecting the magnetic bearing of the water, as it had 
been pointed out to me in the day-light, I made Philip strike a light, 
and, by the help of my compass, I placed my own waggon in the 
proper direction ; but the Klaarwater Hottentots still hesitated to 
follow, until Mr. Anderson undertook to persuade them that the 
compass was a thing which never failed to show the right way. 
Their reluctance to listen to my opinion arose, as they afterwards 
confessed, from their not being able to conceive how it could be pos- 
sible for an utter stranger, like myself, to know any thing about the 
way to Klaarwater. 
In the end they suffered themselves to be guided by me, and 
we all advanced in the best order we could for the darkness of 
the night. It was then two o'clock. We had not travelled more 
than an hour, before we fortunately fell in with the regular track, 
which conducted us to the spot we had been desirous of finding, and 
where we arrived at five o'clock in the morning, just before the twi- 
light began to dawn. When the cry of Water ! water ! relieved all 
our anxiety, I threw myself down on my bed to alleviate, as much as 
it was possible by three or four hours' sleep, the excessive fatigue of 
the last day's journey ; which had not been less than fifty-two miles 
and a half, without resting, and almost without eating, excepting 
what could be taken as we walked along. 
