152 
AFRICAN GAME TRAILS 
as the thirty oxen threw their weight into the yokes by which 
they were attached to the long trek tow. The horses were 
fed. We had tea, with bread and cold meat—and a most 
delicious meal it was—and then lay dozing or talking be¬ 
side the bush-fires. At half-past eight, the moon having 
risen, we were off again. The safari was still in high spirits, 
and started with the usual chanting and drumming. 
We pushed steadily onward across the plain, the dust 
rising in clouds under the spectral moonlight. Sometimes 
we rode, sometimes we walked to ease our horses. The 
Southern Cross was directly ahead, not far above the hori¬ 
zon. Higher and higher rose the moon, and brighter grew 
the flood of her light. At intervals the barking call of zebras 
was heard on either hand. It was after midnight when 
we again halted. The porters were tired, and did not sing 
as they came up; the air was cool, almost nipping, and 
they at once huddled down in their blankets, some of them 
building fires. We, the white men, after seeing our horses 
staked out, each lay down in his overcoat or jacket and 
slicker, with his head on his saddle, and his rifle beside 
him, and had a little over two hours’ sleep. At three we 
were off again, the shivering porters making no sound as 
they started; but once under way the more irrepressible 
spirits speedily began a kind of intermittent chant, and 
most of the rest by degrees joined in the occasional grunt 
or hum that served as chorus. 
For four hours we travelled steadily, first through the 
moonlight, and then through the reddening dawn. Jackals 
shrieked, and the plains plover wailed and scolded as they 
circled round us. When the sun was well up, we halted; 
the desolate flats stretched far and wide on every side and 
