XV 
WHERE A MAN CAN RAISE A THIRST 
*53 
might collapse at any moment. Inured though I am 
to hardship, the terrible strain was beginning to 
tell on me so much, that the desire to fling myself 
down and await the cool of evening became well- 
nigh irresistible. My tongue swelled up and stuck 
to the roof of my mouth, my lips were cracked and 
bleeding with the dry heat, even my light rifle 
seemed to have acquired the weight of a heavy 
baulk of timber, but the absolute necessity of a 
weapon of defence, in case of untoward circum¬ 
stances, precluded any idea of leaving it behind. 
Moreover, the axe with which I was blazirig the 
trees seemed to grow in weight as my strength 
failed, and the effort to wield it became so painful 
that, once or twice, I almost decided to desist, 
speciously arguing that a rest would freshen .me and 
enable me to reach camp. But apart from feeling 
that it would be disastrous to show any weakness 
before my tracker, Hyiah, who, to prove himself a 
man, was simply dragging himself along, every 
muscle drawn in acute suffering, the thought of my 
men behind me, dying of thirst and awaiting my 
return as their only hope of salvation, gave me 
strength and courage to totter on. I also reflected 
on those gentle and refined beings who treasure the 
baubles so wondrously carved and wrought from 
the beautiful white stuff the quest of which had 
landed me in my predicament, and wondered 
