edge, had rushed in among the trees, open-mouthed at what seemed a tempting morsel.

It was the baas of the travelling party—Jan Van Dorn himself—who first perceived the danger, and sounded the alarm, crying out—

“Oh, brothers! We’ve lost our sheep! See what they’re feeding on; it’s the tulp!” (Note 2.)

They thus addressed, needed no further explanation of a word which to the reader may be unintelligible. For there was not a man of them but knew what the tulp was, and its poisonous nature—possibly not one whose herds and flocks had not some time or other been decimated by it.

Soon as it was seen how things stood, there was a rush in among the mopanes, a surrounding of the sheep, and a chorus of shouts, as they were driven out again to open ground. But all too late, as every one seemed to be aware; and when at length the forward movement was about being resumed, it became a subject of discussion whether it would be worth while taking these animals along.

Still there was a hope that, however faint, some of them might survive, and leaning upon this, along were they taken; their owners making all haste to depart from a spot alike dangerous in its flora as its fauna.

Once more was there a cracking of whips, and the oxen, straightening out along the trek-touw (Note 3), moved reluctantly on.

And now the moon, as had been anticipated, giving a bright light, the travellers made good way; before midnight arriving at the second vley, where fortunately there was still a soupçon of water. It was not visible above the surface of sand that formed the vley’s bed; but on examination, several cavities were discovered in which appeared the much wished-for element, that had been hollowed out by the hoofs of quaggas and zebras. Writers talk of instinct teaching these animals to dig their own drinking wells; but the teaching in reality comes from a process of reasoning-intelligence, as that of man himself. All naturalists know that, as indeed ought every one who owns dog or cat, and has observed either spring up to a door-handle, making attempt with manifest design to draw the door open.

Now, thirsting like sponges, the travellers out-spanned, and speedily. All hands that could be spared from looking after the cattle set about sinking a pit in the sand; into which, soon came water enough for all their needs.

It required caution, however, with much shouting, and wielding of jamboks, to keep the animals out of it. The scent of the water had reached their nostrils, an attraction irresistible, and horses neighed, yoke-oxen bellowed, cows groaned in chorus with their bawling calves, all madly eager to wet their muzzles, and quench their thirst that had so long tortured them.

But the Vee-Boers, accustomed to such display, knew the precautions to be taken; so kept the impatient creatures under restraint and aloof, at length giving them to drink, from the “rush-buckets” (Note 4), which were part of their impedimenta.

Their own thirst satisfied, then that of their stock, supper was eaten heartily, and they retired to rest and sleep. Not all, however; nearly a third of their number remaining awake, and on the alert, as guards of the camp. They had no fear of their animals wandering away, fatigued as these were. Even had it been otherwise, and ever so fresh, their straying would have been little apprehended. For on trek, horses and cattle—in short all domesticated quadrupeds—regard the great waggons as they would the houses of a homestead, and will return to them just the same. Instinct—or, from what has been said above, rather reason—admonishes them that beside these is their best place, safest from the attack of predatory beasts—above all, from the lion, the real bête-noir of South African cattle.

Those of our travelling party had been sufficiently frightened at their last halting-place, to keep them cowed, and tame, for at least twenty-four hours after; and just so were they, starting and trembling at every cry of wild creature that reached their ears—even at that of the cowardly hyaena.

And here they heard lions too, though none came near. At this vley, still affording enough water to attract fat quaggas, zebras, and gemsboks, the tawny monsters needed not whetting their teeth on tame cattle, lean and tough as those of the Vee-Boers had got to be.

So the night passed by without further disturbance or adventure; day broke again; breakfast was eaten; the oxen invoked; and the journey over the karoo continued.

Note 1. “Outspann.” The word has a general meaning, and refers not only to detaching the animals from the vehicles, but making halt either temporarily or for the night.

Note 2. “Tulp.” The Dutch name for “tulip,” of which it is but an abbreviated form. The plant itself is so called from its resemblance to the tulip, both in leaf and flower. It is of the iris family, and the genus morosa.

Note 3. “Trek-touw.” The long cable-like rope of raw hide continuing the “tongue,” or pole, of the waggons, and to which the forward pairs of oxen are attached. They are also made fast to it at night, when there is any fear of their straying from the camp.

Note 4. The “milk-baskets” of the Caffres are frequently in use among the Vee-Boers, when on trek, their lightness making them more convenient than vessels of a heavier kind. They are made of the stems of a species of “cyperus,” a rush allied to the “Paper-reed,” sewed so closely together that when dry they will hold water. The Caffres use them as milk pails, and, when emptied, their dogs are allowed to lick them clean. The cleaning is still further carried out by an insect—a species of cockroach (Blatta), which eats what remains of the milk from the interstices between the rushes. So important are these roaches regarded for this purpose, that a Caffre on erecting a new hut, will take his milk-baskets into an old one, and, as soon as a sufficient number of the insects have entered them, will carry the vessels back to where their services are required.

Chapter Five.

Under the Mowana.

Three waggons drawn up under the shade of a gigantic mowana (Note 1)—the waggons of the Vee-Boers after their long, toilsome, and perilous journey across the karoo. They are again out-spanned, but now in laager, which tells of an intention to remain there for some little time. The vehicles are set in such fashion as to enclose a rectangular space, open at one end; while around them, at some distance off, a circular fence of thorny bushes roughly form a chevaux-de-frise, to hinder lions, hyaenas, and other marauders from approaching too near. Seemingly, the ground has been judiciously chosen, with an eye to the three chief requisites of a camp—grass, wood, and water. It is contiguous to the bank of a clear, running stream, on each side fringed with a belt of timber, trees of many different kinds; while landward, far as eye can reach, extends an open veldt, (Note 2), grass-covered, and affording plenteous pasturage for their cattle. These are all now on it; oxen and milch-kine; the horses, too, hoppled neck-and-knee, to keep them from straying. But just now there is little fear of that, the animals not yet having recovered from the Karoo journey, and all are browsing tranquilly.

The sheep are not there—not one of them. If looked for, they would be found—or rather their carcases—lying here and there along the line of yesterday’s trek; though, like as not, even the carcases would not be there, only