"We came more east than north, evidently," said Schoverling. "However, all's well that ends well. Don't gallop, Akram; we must go easy on the horses!"
They were soon up to the wagon and were greeted with a joyful yell by the Masai, who had no scruples about partaking of the raw meat. Knowing their tastes, the explorer had filled two or three gourds with the blood of the slain giraffes, which the natives drank greedily. The boys were disgusted, and sought refuge at the head of the column again.
That night the two remaining casks of water were shifted to the bed of the wagon, the empty casks remaining slung below. With the next evening, however, there came a joyful change in their prospects, for as they proceeded they saw that dark clouds were gathering along the horizon to the north.
"Rain!" cried the boys eagerly. Von Hofe nodded, and the Masai struck up a "rain chant" which seemed to have the desired effect. By midnight the sky was overcast, and when they outspanned the next morning for the early halt gusts of wind and rain were sweeping down upon them that gradually changed to a steady, settled rain.
"This is a great piece of good luck," exclaimed Schoverling, revealing to von Hofe for the first time how their water supply had shrunk. "Get out all the casks, boys, and let them fill. It's a bad thing for the march, however."
"Why so?" queried the doctor, as the two boys began unslinging the casks.
"Because when this soil is wet it's mighty greasy, and makes hard going for the ox-team. However, it's well worth it."
The only trees on the plain were stunted thorn-trees, but from these the Masai got enough dry wood to start a fire, after which others were started. The boys, Schoverling and the doctor huddled together in the wet grass under the tent, blankets around them and saddle-cloths over their feet, and slept comfortably enough despite the drenching rain.
When the camp wakened into action, the rain had passed over and once more the sky was bright and the air hot. But they had obtained three full casks of water, and now had little fear for the future. As the explorer had predicted, the soil was wet and greasy, but aside from getting stuck once in an old drift, they had no great trouble, and after the noon halt the sun had dried up the ground fairly well.
When they halted at sunset that night Charlie pulled out his glasses and then gave a cry of joy. Far ahead, but unmistakable, they could see green slopes and trees. Quilqua the mysterious was in sight.