up there, they consented to come, having probably
reflected that, after all, our subsequent extinction would be no affair
of theirs.

All next day we rested and slept, and at sunset ate a hearty meal of
fresh beef washed down with tea, the last, as Good remarked sadly, we
were likely to drink for many a long day. Then, having made our final
preparations, we lay down and waited for the moon to rise. At last,
about nine o'clock, up she came in all her glory, flooding the wild
country with light, and throwing a silver sheen on the expanse of
rolling desert before us, which looked as solemn and quiet and as alien
to man as the star-studded firmament above. We rose up, and in a few
minutes were ready, and yet we hesitated a little, as human nature is
prone to hesitate on the threshold of an irrevocable step. We three
white men stood by ourselves. Umbopa, assegai in hand and a rifle
across his shoulders, looked out fixedly across the desert a few paces
ahead of us; while the hired natives, with the gourds of water, and
Ventvoegel, were gathered in a little knot behind.

"Gentlemen," said Sir Henry presently, in his deep voice, "we are going
on about as strange a journey as men can make in this world. It is very
doubtful if we can succeed in it. But we are three men who will stand
together for good or for evil to the last. Now before we start let us
for a moment pray to the Power who shapes the destinies of men, and who
ages since has marked out our paths, that it may please Him to direct
our steps in accordance with His will."

Taking off his hat, for the space of a minute or so, he covered his
face with his hands, and Good and I did likewise.

I do not say that I am a first-rate praying man, few hunters are, and
as for Sir Henry, I never heard him speak like that before, and only
once since, though deep down in his heart I believe that he is very
religious. Good too is pious, though apt to swear. Anyhow I do not
remember, excepting on one single occasion, ever putting up a better
prayer in my life than I did during that minute, and somehow I felt the
happier for it. Our future was so completely unknown, and I think that
the unknown and the awful always bring a man nearer to his Maker.

"And now," said Sir Henry, "_trek_!"

So we started.

We had nothing to guide ourselves by except the distant mountains and
old Jose da Silvestre's chart, which, considering that it was drawn by
a dying and half-distraught man on a fr