lisation in some form, and he
felt pretty certain that sooner or later he would reach Oom
Morgenstern's store and farm.

But it had been a terrible task that managing of the team alone, and
urging the sluggish animals to drag the wagon when they reached heavy
patches of sand. Then, too, there was the outspanning--the unyoking the
often vicious animals from the dissel-boom or wagon pole and trek chain,
when he halted by water, and let them drink and feed. Then the
inspanning, the yoking up of the oxen again, and the start once more.

That huge whip, too, had been such a clumsy thing to handle, but highly
necessary, for without it he would never have reached the end of his
journey. Then at night there had been the same outspanning to see to;
the feeding of the bullocks; the collection of wood and lighting of as
big a fire as he could contrive, to cook his food, boil his coffee, and,
finally, make up to scare off wild beasts. In addition to this, a thorn
protection ought to have been made to keep off danger from Breezy, but
that was impossible; and hour after hour Dyke had sat in the darkness,
where the cob's rein was made fast to the wagon tail, and, gun in hand,
had watched over the trembling beast, keeping him company when the
distant roaring of lions was heard on the veldt, and the bullocks grew
uneasy.

Little sleep fell to Dyke's lot by night; but in the daytime, when the
bullocks were going steadily along the track, which they followed
willingly enough for the most part, the boy's head would sink down upon
his breast, and he would snatch a few minutes' rest, often enough to
start up and find the wagon at a standstill, and the bullocks cropping
some patch of grass or the tender shoots of a clump of bushes.

Then on again, with at times the great whip exchanged for the gun, and
some bird or another laid low, so as to find him in extra provisions by
the way. Once, too, he managed to hit a little buck.

A long, doleful, and weary journey, without meeting a soul, or being
passed. On and on, over the never-ending plain, often despairing, and
with the oxen groaning, empty as the wagon was, for the sun flashed and
was reflected up with blinding force, and there were moments when Dyke
grew giddy, and felt as if he must break down.

But those were only moments. He set his teeth again, and trudged on or
rode, thinking of Joe waiting patiently away there in the lonely,
corrugated iron building, tending the ostriche