g, and having seen their luggage safely stowed
among the bales and cases which, piled sky-high, constituted his cargo,
gave orders to inspan. Then Gerard, always observant, noted how the
oxen, to the number of sixteen, were driven up and ranged into line by
one native, and kept there while another and Dawes placed a noosed
_reim_, or thong of raw hide, round the horns of each, and in a trice
the yoke was adjusted to each neck, for the animals were veteran
roadsters, and each knew his place. The yoking was a simple process.
Two flat wooden pegs, called "skeys," passed through the yoke on each
side of the neck, which was kept in its place between them by a twisted
strip of raw hide passing underneath just below the throat, and hitched
in a nick in the "skey." The motive power is that of pushing, the yoke
resting against the slight hump above the animal's withers.

"Trek--Hamba--ke!" cried the native driver, raising his voice in a wild
long-drawn yell. "Englaand--Scotland--Mof--Bokvel--Kwaaiman--Tre-ek!"

The long whip cracked like pistol shots, again and again. As the driver
ran through the whole gamut of names, each ox instinctively started
forward at the sound of its own, and the ponderous, creaking, loaded-up
structure rolled heavily forward. Other waggons stood outspanned along
the flat, but mostly deserted, for their owners preferred the more
genial atmosphere of the hotel bar, and the native servants in charge
had all foregathered at one fire.

"Like to ride, eh? or would you rather walk?" said Dawes, lighting his
pipe. "Maybe, though, you'll find it a bit jolty riding, at first.
It's a fine night, though."

Gerard answered that they would rather walk; and, indeed, such
locomotion was infinitely preferable to the slow rumbling roll of the
waggon, crawling along at just under three miles per hour. And the
night was fine indeed. The air was deliciously cool, the dim outline of
the rolling downs was just visible in the light of the myriad shining
stars which spangled the heavens in all the lavish brilliance of their
tropical beauty. Here and there a grass fire glowed redly in the
distance. Now and again the weird cry of some strange bird or beast
arose from the surrounding _veldt_, and this, with the creaking ramble
of the waggon, the deep bass of the native voices, chatting in their own
tongue, made our two English lads realise that they were indeed in
Africa at last. There was a glorious sense of freed