he previous day. The oxen in particular showed
symptoms of weakness, and drew the wagon sluggishly; so that Swartboy's
voice and long whip were kept in constant action.

But there were other reasons why they would have to halt when night came
on. The field-cornet was not so sure of the direction. He would not be
able to follow it by night, as there was not the semblance of a track to
guide him. Besides it would be dangerous to travel by night, for then
the nocturnal robber of Africa--the fierce lion--is abroad.

They would be under the necessity, therefore, of halting for the night,
water or no water.

It wanted yet half-an-hour of sundown when Von Bloom had arrived at this
decision. He only kept on a little farther in hopes of reaching a spot
where there was grass. They were now more than twenty miles from their
starting-point, and still the black "spoor" of the locusts covered the
plain. Still no grass to be seen, still the bushes bare of their leaves,
and barked!

The field-cornet began to think that he was trekking right in the way
the locusts had come. Westward he was heading for certain; he knew that.
But he was not yet certain that the flight had not advanced from the
west instead of the north. If so, they might go for days before coming
upon a patch of grass!

These thoughts troubled him, and with anxious eyes he swept the plain in
front, as well as to the right and left.

A shout from the keen-eyed Bushman produced a joyful effect. He saw
grass in front. He saw some bushes with leaves! They were still a mile
off, but the oxen, as if the announcement had been understood by them,
moved more briskly forward.

Another mile passed over, and they came upon grass, sure enough. It was
a very scanty pasture, though--a few scattered blades growing over the
reddish surface, but in no place a mouthful for an ox. There was just
enough to tantalize the poor brutes without filling their stomachs. It
assured Von Bloom, however, that they had now got beyond the track of
the locusts; and he kept on a little farther in hopes that the pasture
might get better.

It did not, however. The country through which they advanced was a wild,
sterile plain--almost as destitute of vegetation as that over which they
had hitherto been travelling. It no longer owed its nakedness to the
locusts, but to the absence of water.

They had no more time to search for pasture. The sun was already below
the horizon when they halted to "outspan