esert sand-grouse--Namaqua partridge, as the colonists call them. And
occasionally the flights of sand-grouse stooped in their pretty way and
drank at the margin of the water. But I saw yet another sight in that
singular valley. I saw a tall figure walking by the edge of the lake.
Its back was towards me, and, for the life of me, I could not see its
face. I gazed and gazed; but the face never turned; and then suddenly
the scene vanished, and my dream was over. Again I dreamed, and again I
saw the spreading water beneath me, and the wildfowl; but there were no
pelicans and no sand-grouse. I saw, too, a figure walking along the
shore. This time the figure was different. It was shorter, and the
walk was brisker; but again the man's back was towards me, and his face
was hidden. And then, again, the dream faded, and I saw no more.

Next morning, Du Plessis and I sat at breakfast, still stiff and sore,
yet in better heart. Our night's sleep had restored our flagging
spirits. We had agreed to rest after our five days of hard work, and
have a quiet day at our camp. We were later this morning, and the last
of the pelicans were vanishing for their day's excursion as we sat down
to breakfast I was surprised, therefore, as I looked towards the
mountain, to see a string of wildfowl--evidently duck--circle a few
times in the clear morning sky, and then drop down into the mountains
again, exactly from where the pelicans sank and rose. I nudged Du
Plessis, whose nose was in his coffee, and pointed. "Wild-duck!" he
ejaculated--"the first time we have seen them, too. There is the vlei,
truly enough."

Half an hour later, about nine o'clock, flights of sand-grouse came
overhead, and made straight for the heart of the mountain. More and
more followed; there must have been many scores of them. They were the
first we had seen at this camp.

My dream instantly came into my mind. I attached little importance to
such things, yet the coincidence of the wildfowl and the sand-grouse was
remarkable, and I told Du Plessis what I had dreamed. Quite in a
chaffing way, I said: "We're going to discover your vlei and its secret
after all, Koenraad. Dreams do sometimes come true. I wonder, though,
what on earth the two men's figures could mean?"

Du Plessis was much more serious, and said with a solemn face: "It is
not right to laugh at dreams, my friend; the Heer God sends them for
some good reason, undoubtedly. I had nearly give