On the seventh day the supply of meat, large as it had been, began to show signs of giving out. The Masai had accepted the smoked meat willingly enough, but neither the explorer nor the boys had counted on their enormous appetites. As it would not do to halt the march, the wagon was left in charge of von Hofe, while the General, the boys, and the three gun-bearers cantered out after whatever game they could find. So far the horses had stood the strain well, being seasoned, wiry little beasts. Schoverling rode between the boys.
"I didn't want to tell the doctor," he volunteered in a low tone, when they were a good half-mile from the wagon, "and don't let on before the Indians; but we're going to be in bad unless we get across pretty soon. There are only two casks of water left. I'm afraid the Masai have been tapping them at night."
"Jumping sandhills!" exclaimed Charlie, staring in dismay. "Why, we have to use at least half a cask a day, only giving the horses and cattle a few swallows, and us too! I s'pose we'll cut out the cattle?"
"Have to," nodded the explorer. "I hate to do it, but we can't return now. I'd like to take a gun-butt to those Masai!"
"You can't blame them," put in Jack. "They've got the hardest end to bear up, Gen'ral. We've only allowed them about a pint a day each, same as us, when they've been hiking steady. It's hard lines on them, take it from me."
"We can't help that, Jack," Schoverling returned. "There's no use punishing them, of course, for they may be valuable later on. But when you're on watch, just take a look under the wagon now and then. If you find anyone at the water-casks, take the cattle-whip to him. That water means life to all of us—and we come first!"
The boys fell silent. The danger was brought home to them, as the explorer intended, and they realized the grim law of the white man in savage places—that whatever happened, whoever perished, he must survive. It is not a merciful law; Schoverling was not one of the generous-hearted kind who treat the native as an equal at such times. He was an average, self-preserving Caucasian, who was only merciless when his own life hung in the balance. The boys had been trained in the same school, and fully realized the force of his words.
"The Masai are holding up finely," he went on, "but we'll have to watch them close. At any minute they may get sick of things and try to rush us. That means trouble, which I hope will not come."
Charlie joined him silently in that hope, though from the behavior of the natives he could hardly believe that they would turn on the whites. However, the conversation was soon shifted by the discovery of a herd of giraffes to the north.
"Long range, I s'pose?" queried Jack, getting out his heavy gun. The Indians were armed with the lighter ones.