overed with herbage and flowers of every hue, and looked like a
garden.

"How strange that the ground should be covered with flowers where there
is no rain or water to be found," observed Alexander.

"It is the heavy dews of the night which support them," said Swinton,
"and perhaps the occasional rains which fall."

A line of trees to the southward told them that they were now
approaching an unnamed river, and the tired oxen quickened their pace;
but on their arrival they found that the bed of the river was dry, and
not even a drop of water was to be found in the pools. The poor animals,
which had been unyoked, snuffed and smelt at the wet, damp earth, and
licked it with their tongues, but could obtain no relief. The water
which they had had in the casks for their own drinking was now, all
gone; and there were no hopes of obtaining any till they arrived at the
Vet River, at least twenty-five to thirty miles distant. Two of the oxen
lay down to rise no more, the countenances of the Hottentots were
dejected and sullen, and our travelers felt that their situation was
alarming.

While they were still searching and digging for water, the sky became
overcast, thunder and lightning were seen and heard in the distance, and
the clouds came rolling in volumes toward them. Hope was now in every
face; they already anticipated the copious showers which were to
succeed; their eyes ever fixed upon the coming storm; even the cattle
appeared to be conscious that relief was at hand. All the day the clouds
continued to gather, and the lightning to gleam. Night closed in, but
the rain had not yet fallen; the wind rose up, and in less than an hour
all the clouds had passed away, the stars shone out brightly, and they
were left in a state of suffering and disappointment.

CHAPTER XXVII.

As our travelers were sitting together, each occupied with his own
melancholy thoughts, after the dispersion of the clouds and the
anticipated relief, the Major said--

"It is useless our remaining here; we must all perish if we do not
proceed, and it would be better for us to yoke and travel by night; the
animals will bear the journey better, and the people will not be so
inclined to brood over their misfortunes when on the march as when thus
huddled together here, and communicating their lamentations to
dishearten each other. It is now nine o'clock; let us yoke and push on
as far as we can."

"I agree with you, Major," said Alexander; "wh