in fact all vegetation, ceased. We reached this
region of awful desolation a little after sunrise one morning, coming
upon it abruptly from the edge of a dune whose hollow held the usual
vegetation in plenty.

With my field-glasses I scanned the bare and barren waste before us in
all directions, but no sign of life or vegetation broke the monotony of
its awful desolation. I looked at Inyati, peering from under his palm
in the same direction, and he answered my unspoken question.

"Yes, master, we must cross it. It runs for many days' journey north
and south, and we cannot go round. I crossed it when I came, but
farther south; and I found a little t'samma then. And yet I nearly
died!"

That day the heat was very great, and here there were no bushes to give
us a particle of shade. A few stunted "gar-boomen" there were, and the
horses ate eagerly of the long bunches of bean-like fruit hanging from
them; but their thin, withered foliage was no protection against the
terrific power of the sun. Then Inyati showed me a Bushman trick; for,
burrowing in the side of the dune, he soon made a considerable hollow,
and breaking down the brittle "gar" bushes he roofed it over, throwing
a whole pile of other bushes on top till it was light-proof enough to
at least break some of the sun's glare.

And into this we crawled, and stewed till evening brought us some
little respite.

Meanwhile we had discussed our chances of getting across.

"Three days, at least, my master, it will take the horses; and if we
find no t'samma they will die. It is drier than when I crossed. But if
we go not east, but turn somewhat to the south, there is a pan. It is
two days only but who knows if there is water there? Still, mayhap,
that is the better path." That night we had to wait late before
trekking, as the moon was waning, and in the hideous jumble of dunes
before us, we feared to trust solely to the stars. We were glad to rest
too, and let our horses rest and take their fill of the last t'samma
they were likely to get.

I lay smoking in the dark, waiting for the moon to rise, and listening
to the "crunch, crunch" of the horses still steadily feeding, when a
low call from Inyati made me spring to my feet, He had climbed to the
top of the highest dune, and at his second call I ploughed my way up
through the loose sand till I stood beside him. He was pointing away to
the south-east.

"A fire, master," he said; "there are men there; that must be o