he column again.

That night the two remaining casks of water were shifted to the bed of
the wagon, the empty casks remaining slung below. With the next evening,
however, there came a joyful change in their prospects, for as they
proceeded they saw that dark clouds were gathering along the horizon to
the north.

"Rain!" cried the boys eagerly. Von Hofe nodded, and the Masai struck up
a "rain chant" which seemed to have the desired effect. By midnight the
sky was overcast, and when they outspanned the next morning for the
early halt gusts of wind and rain were sweeping down upon them that
gradually changed to a steady, settled rain.

"This is a great piece of good luck," exclaimed Schoverling, revealing
to von Hofe for the first time how their water supply had shrunk. "Get
out all the casks, boys, and let them fill. It's a bad thing for the
march, however."

"Why so?" queried the doctor, as the two boys began unslinging the
casks.

"Because when this soil is wet it's mighty greasy, and makes hard going
for the ox-team. However, it's well worth it."

The only trees on the plain were stunted thorn-trees, but from these the
Masai got enough dry wood to start a fire, after which others were
started. The boys, Schoverling and the doctor huddled together in the
wet grass under the tent, blankets around them and saddle-cloths over
their feet, and slept comfortably enough despite the drenching rain.

When the camp wakened into action, the rain had passed over and once
more the sky was bright and the air hot. But they had obtained three
full casks of water, and now had little fear for the future. As the
explorer had predicted, the soil was wet and greasy, but aside from
getting stuck once in an old drift, they had no great trouble, and after
the noon halt the sun had dried up the ground fairly well.

When they halted at sunset that night Charlie pulled out his glasses and
then gave a cry of joy. Far ahead, but unmistakable, they could see
green slopes and trees. Quilqua the mysterious was in sight.

CHAPTER XII

A DESERTED LAND

That night the water was not spared, and the rest of the meat was
polished off in reckless fashion. After a three-hour rest, they took up
the march again in renewed spirits, the Masai singing and chanting
eagerly. But distances were deceptive in that country of clear vision
and high altitude. When they camped at dawn after a hard march, they
seemed no nearer the trees than before, an