this was
not to be met with at all times or in all places, and the juice of the
euphorbia or the venom of serpents was sometimes substituted. In the
present instance he meant to steep the bone-heads in the poison of the
ondara, which he had carefully preserved. Omatoko assured them that
when they set out for his village (as they probably would on the
following day), they would soon have an opportunity of testing the
efficiency of his weapons, and laughingly challenged them to a trial of
skill between his bow and arrows and their guns.

On the following morning accordingly they resumed their route. Each of
them carried some of the flesh of the kids, a dozen medlars, and a
melon. It was found that the strength of the Hottentot was now so far
restored that he could keep up with the usual pace at which the others
walked, and only required a rest of half an hour or so, every two or
three miles. They accomplished about a dozen miles that day; and at
nightfall had reached a wide stony plain, covered here and there with
patches of grass, but entirely destitute of shrub or tree. Omatoko
pointed out a place where a deep projecting slab of rock, resting on two
enormous stones, and bearing a rude resemblance to a giant's
chimney-piece, afforded as convenient a shelter for the night as might
be desired. It would effectually protect the party from rain and wind,
nor was there the least fear of wild animals, as none were ever known to
come within two or three miles of the spot, there being neither
pasturage nor water.

"No water," repeated Frank, "that's rather a doubtful advantage, isn't
it? What are we to drink, I wonder?"

The Hottentot only grinned in reply; and disengaging the knife which
always hung at Nick's girdle, began grubbing in the ground among the
stones. In a few minutes he dug up several round, or rather spherical
roots, two or three feet in circumference. These he cut open with the
knife, displaying the inside, which had a white appearance, and was soft
and pulpy. The boys had no sooner applied this to their lips than they
broke out into exclamations of delight. "That's your sort," exclaimed
Nick; "it's like a delicious melon, only it's twice as refreshing."

"Omatoko, you're a trump," cried Frank. "You'd make a fortune, if you
could only sell these in Covent Garden market. Nobody that could get
them would ever drink water again."

"What are they called, Charles," asked Warley. "Are they to be met