there was a heavy fall of
snow coming," said the White Man to himself. "I have often seen the sky
look like that in Scotland before snow." Then he reflected that there
had been no deep snow in Natal for years, and, having drunk a "tot" of
squareface and smoked his pipe, he went to bed beneath the after-tent of
his larger wagon.

During the night he was awakened by a sense of bitter cold and the low
moaning of the oxen that were tied to the trek-tow, every ox in its
place. He thrust his head through the curtain of the tent and looked
out. The earth was white with snow, and the air was full of it, swept
along by a cutting wind.

Now he sprang up, huddling on his clothes and as he did so calling to
the Kaffirs who slept beneath the wagons. Presently they awoke from
the stupor which already was beginning to overcome them, and crept out,
shivering with cold and wrapped from head to foot in blankets.

"Quick! you boys," he said to them in Zulu; "quick! Would you see the
cattle die of the snow and wind? Loose the oxen from the trek-tows and
drive them in between the wagons; they will give them some shelter." And
lighting a lantern he sprang out into the snow.

At last it was done--no easy task, for the numbed hands of the Kaffirs
could scarcely loosen the frozen reims. The wagons were outspanned
side by side with a space between them, and into this space the mob of
thirty-six oxen was driven and there secured by reims tied crosswise
from the front and hind wheels of the wagons. Then the White Man crept
back to his bed, and the shivering natives, fortified with gin, or
squareface, as it is called locally, took refuge on the second wagon,
drawing a tent-sail over them.

For awhile there was silence, save for the moaning of the huddled and
restless cattle.

"If the snow goes on I shall lose my oxen," he said to himself; "they
can never bear this cold."

Hardly had the words passed his lips when the wagon shook; there was a
sound of breaking reims and trampling hoofs. Once more he looked out.
The oxen had "skrecked" in a mob. There they were, running away into the
night and the snow, seeking to find shelter from the cold. In a minute
they had vanished utterly. There was nothing to be done, except wait for
the morning.

At last it came, revealing a landscape blind with snow. Such search as
could be made told them nothing. The oxen had gone, and their spoor was
obliterated by the fresh-fallen flakes. The White Man called