eyes wearied with the unvarying vista on
every hand, the straight stems of the mopani forest, enclosing him; a
still and ghastly wilderness devoid of bird or animal life. He stumbled
forward, his lips blue and cracked, his tongue swollen, his throat on
fire; and in his mind was blank and utter despair, for he knew that he
was in the heart of a waterless tract, extending for about a hundred
miles, and for over forty hours no drop of moisture of any sort had
passed his lips. Forty hours of wandering in the driest, most
thirst-inspiring region in the world!

He had made a bad start. There had been festivities at Fort Pagadi the
night before, to celebrate the Jameson Raid and drink the health of its
leaders. In these he had participated to the full--very much to the
full. He had started at daybreak with a native guide, a headache, and a
thirst which a brace of long and early brandies-and-sodas had failed
entirely to quench. He had started, too, with another concomitant
incidental to these latter--a very bad temper, to wit; wherefore, the
native guide proving irritatingly dull of comprehension, he leaned from
the saddle and cuffed him; which proceeding that aboriginal resented by
decamping on the first opportunity.

Then he should have gone back, but he did not. He took short cuts
instead. This was the more idiotic as he was rather new to the country,
to this actual section of it entirely so. In short, it is hardly
surprising that in the logical result he should have found himself
lost--irretrievably `turned round'; and now, after two days and a night
of wandering to and fro, and round and round, in futile, frantic efforts
to extricate himself from that fatal net, here he was hardly able to
drag himself or his horse four hundred yards farther, the nearest water
being anything between thirty and fifty miles away.

The scant shade of the mopani foliage afforded little protection from
the sun, and even if it had, the oven-like atmosphere engendered by the
burnt, cracked soil would have neutralised such. He had tried climbing
trees in order to try and get some sort of bearings. As well might a
swimmer in mid-ocean rise to the crest of a wave, hoping to descry a
landmark. The smooth, regular expanse of bluish-grey leafage stretched
away unbroken, in whatever direction he might turn his eager despairing
gaze; and he had got stung by ants, and had wasted a deal of much needed
vitality in the effort. That was all, an