crop--our labour
of the year--gone, gone! O my dear children!"

"How lost, father?--how gone?" exclaimed several of them in a breath.

"See the springaan! they will eat up our crop--all--all!"

"'Tis true, indeed," said Hans, who being a great student had often read
accounts of the devastations committed by the locusts.

The joyous countenances of all once more wore a sad expression, and it
was no longer with curiosity that they gazed upon the distant cloud,
that so suddenly had clouded their joy.

Von Bloom had good cause for dread. Should the swarm come on, and settle
upon his fields, farewell to his prospects of a harvest. They would
strip the verdure from his whole farm in a twinkling. They would leave
neither seed, nor leaf, nor stalk behind them.

All stood watching the flight with painful emotions. The swarm was still
a full half-mile distant. They appeared to be coming no nearer,--good!

A ray of hope entered the mind of the field-cornet. He took off his
broad felt hat, and held it up to the full stretch of his arm. The wind
was blowing from the north, and the swarm was directly to the west of
the kraal. The cloud of locusts had approached from the north, as they
almost invariably do in the southern parts of Africa.

"Yes," said Hendrik, who having been in their midst could tell what way
they were drifting, "they came down upon us from a northerly direction.
When we headed our horses homewards, we soon galloped out from them, and
they did not appear to fly after us; I am sure they were passing
southwards."

Von Bloom entertained hopes that as none appeared due north of the
kraal, the swarm might pass on without extending to the borders of his
farm. He knew that they usually followed the direction of the wind.
Unless the wind changed they would not swerve from their course.

He continued to observe them anxiously. He saw that the selvedge of the
cloud came no nearer. His hopes rose. His countenance grew brighter. The
children noticed this and were glad, but said nothing. All stood
silently watching.

An odd sight it was. There was not only the misty swarm of the insects
to gaze upon. The air above them was filled with birds--strange birds
and of many kinds. On slow, silent wing soared the brown "oricou," the
largest of Africa's vultures; and along with him the yellow "chasse
fiente," the vulture of Kolbe. There swept the bearded "lamvanger," on
broad extended wings. There shrieked the great "Caffre ea