better. At noon we outspanned at some water-pools, where several of
these groups were also resting. We entered into conversation with them,
and they told us that they had retired earlier than the others on
account of the weakness of their animals; that one of their number had
been taken ill, and could ride no further, even if his horse could carry
him, which was doubtful.

We spoke to the sick man, who was lying in the shade of a tree. He was
quite a youth, and evidently of a better stamp than his companions.

"If only I could reach a certain farm about five miles further on," he
sighed, "I think I should manage."

"Take my seat," said I, "and I'll ride your nag."

"I must tell you," he objected, "that the poor beast is quite exhausted.
It would take hours to get him there."

"Never mind, I'll start now, and you can follow on with the cart when
our horses have had a feed."

Our business admitted of no retard, so I meant to get a good start in
order not to delay my companions.

I mounted the nag and shouted "Get up!"

He stumbled forward a few steps and stood stock still. I pricked him
with the spurs, he moved on a little further and halted again. By dint
of spurring, striking, and shouting, he at last broke into a slow trot,
wearily dragging his hoofs, but before long he stopped once more.

I dismounted and tried to lead him, but he would not budge. Then I tried
driving him on ahead, but as soon as I got behind him he turned out of
the road, first to the right, then to the left. Of all heart-breaking
experiences this was the worst. I could not leave the animal to die by
the wayside; the farm was only a few miles further on, where he would
find water, food, and rest. I mounted again, shouted, cracked my
sjambok--blows he could no longer feel--flourished my arms, jerked my
body up and down in the saddle, and finally got him into a walk--but
such a walk! slow, mechanical, every step an effort.

When we finally reached the farmhouse I sprang down and quickly threw
the saddle off. No sooner did the faithful animal feel itself released
from its service than it sank to the ground, utterly exhausted. I myself
was not much better off, after my exertions in the blazing sun. If you
are fond of horses, never try to repeat my experiment. Straining the
last ounce out of your mount is too much like mule-driving, and that is
the most soul-killing occupation on earth, as any Afrikander can
testify.

The cart was waiting for