ures from thirst and prickly heat. Nobody who has not
felt it can know what we went through. We walked no longer, we
staggered, now and again falling from exhaustion, and being obliged to
call a halt every hour or so. We had scarcely energy left in us to
speak. Up to this Good had chatted and joked, for he is a merry fellow;
but now he had not a joke in him.

At last, about two o'clock, utterly worn out in body and mind, we came
to the foot of the queer hill, or sand koppie, which at first sight
resembled a gigantic ant-heap about a hundred feet high, and covering
at the base nearly two acres of ground.

Here we halted, and driven to it by our desperate thirst, sucked down
our last drops of water. We had but half a pint a head, and each of us
could have drunk a gallon.

Then we lay down. Just as I was dropping off to sleep I heard Umbopa
remark to himself in Zulu--

"If we cannot find water we shall all be dead before the moon rises
to-morrow."

I shuddered, hot as it was. The near prospect of such an awful death is
not pleasant, but even the thought of it could not keep me from
sleeping.

[1] Readers must beware of accepting Mr. Quatermain's references as
accurate, as, it has been found, some are prone to do. Although his
reading evidently was limited, the impression produced by it upon his
mind was mixed. Thus to him the Old Testament and Shakespeare were
interchangeable authorities.--Editor.

CHAPTER VI

WATER! WATER!

Two hours later, that is, about four o'clock, I woke up, for so soon as
the first heavy demand of bodily fatigue had been satisfied, the
torturing thirst from which I was suffering asserted itself. I could
sleep no more. I had been dreaming that I was bathing in a running
stream, with green banks and trees upon them, and I awoke to find
myself in this arid wilderness, and to remember, as Umbopa had said,
that if we did not find water this day we must perish miserably. No
human creature could live long without water in that heat. I sat up and
rubbed my grimy face with my dry and horny hands, as my lips and
eyelids were stuck together, and it was only after some friction and
with an effort that I was able to open them. It was not far from dawn,
but there was none of the bright feel of dawn in the air, which was
thick with a hot murkiness that I cannot describe. The others were
still sleeping.

Presently it began to grow light enough to read, so I drew out a little
pocket copy of the