430 
AFRICAN HUNTING. 
of the way, the wagon also heavy, the near hind 
axle-tree sprung ; and no offer whatever will induce 
a Masara to go with me, as they dread sun and 
thirst too much. I must, however, attempt it, as I 
am greatly in need of a change of food, and 
thoroughly sick of meat, meat, meat, without anything 
besides. No news, good, bad, or indifferent, of the 
other wagon. I have long since ceased making conjec¬ 
tures, but must first replenish my stores, and then 
go in search. There is little use in waiting for the 
chance of rain, as Dr. Livingstone told me, that when 
he was living at Kolobeng, Sechele’s country, it never 
once rained for five years. The trees, notwithstand¬ 
ing the drought, are all fast coming into leaf again, 
and the bush is getting green and thick, so that 
there is no more hunting; besides, the unhealthy 
season is just beginning, and it is high time to get 
out into a better climate. Driving my own wagon is 
cruel hard work, very different from walking, lying, 
riding in the wagon, or on horseback, just as my in¬ 
clination tended; now my hands are all scars and 
sores from the oxen’s horns, and I am quite hoarse 
with calling and shouting at them. 
YJtli. — We are now at the Eiver Mesa, which we 
reached two days ago. I had miscalculated the dis¬ 
tance, it being four days instead of three ; but I got a 
little water for my oxen half way, in a vley. That 
indefatigable, careless vagabond, January, hit off a 
Bushman’s spoor and caught him up, and though he 
assured him positively that there was no water, that 
