wner of the wagon was
an old Boer named Niekerk; he owned a farm in the Lydenburg District,
but spent most of his life wandering about in search of game. Niekerk's
companion was an ex-man-of-war's man named Rawlings, one of the most
ill-tempered and pessimistic beings I have ever met. He was small,
hatchet faced, and foxy in appearance. His face was much disfigured by
a bullet-wound through both jaws received, so he said, in a skirmish
with slavers near Zanzibar. Rawlings's disposition suggested a possible
descent from Mr. Squeers and Mrs. Gummidge.

Niekerk and Rawlings were a strangely assorted couple. They could not
quarrel, for the reason that Niekerk had no English and Rawlings no
Dutch. Niekerk held stoutly to the theory that all Englishmen were mad,
more or less, and excused his companion's peculiarities accordingly. He
had met Rawlings tramping in the Transvaal and given him a lift.
Rawlings was not particular as to locality, having inverted the theory
of Dr. Pangloss, and settled to his own satisfaction that this was the
worst of all possible worlds, he held all places to be more or less
equally vile. So he had followed Niekerk grumblingly down the mountain
pass leading to the Low Country, and had been wasting his pessimism on
the desert air of the Crocodile River Valley for several weeks before
our arrival.

Game was here more plentiful. I borrowed Niekerk's rifle and shot a
waterbuck and several klipspringers. Our camp was surrounded by immense
domes of granite, and each morning the summit of almost every dome was
occupied by several klipspringers. The bearers were much delighted,
they had hated our diet of unvarying askoek. We also found quantities
of honey. Honey-birds were numerous, and ever ready to oblige by
pointing out a bees' nest. The scenery, was very beautiful. To the
north-west towered some of the loftiest peaks of the Drakensberg. The
bare, granite domes around us were almost hemispherical in shape. They
arose out of swamp rooted forest. The vegetation was very rich.

The problem as to how we were to cross the river now became very
pressing indeed. We could not afford to waste any time, as our food
supply was extremely limited. The weather was hot and moist, so we
could not manage to dry any meat; the flies got at it at once. One of
two things had to be done: we had to cross the river within a very few
days or else turn back. And turning back was a thing I had always hated
doing.

The river