The figure of our black driver passed between me and the glowing light, and recalled me to myself. It was time to retire; the oxen that had been grazing at a distance had returned, and of their own accord had reclined on the ground close to the waggon; spreading out our coverings, all of us lay down upon the grass, and sheltered by its stems and breathing its fragrance, we were soon enjoying our well-earned slumber.
In good time next morning we were again on our way. Judging from what the guide told me, I reckoned that the distance to Gassibone’s quarters must be about thirty-five miles, but I was somewhat disconcerted on hearing that on our way we should find water extremely scarce. It was some satisfaction to know that we had a sufficient supply for our mid-day meal, but any intermediate draught to quench our thirst between times, was not to be thought of.
Proceeding east by north we soon came to a region where we could well believe our guide when he told us that not a drop of rain had fallen for months, and the further we advanced the more parched and yellow did the grass become; though the spring was coming on, we saw but few sprouting blades, and as we went on we found fewer still; the young leaves of the amaryllis, too, that had sprung up here and there, were quite withered by the drought.
A gradual ascent led us up a small plateau, vegetation still becoming more and more scanty. A light breeze swayed the tall dry grass-stems like a field of corn and was hailed by us with delight as it moderated the heat, and gave a sort of freshness to our fevered lips. The oxen had not tasted water for thirty hours; their languor was excessive, and up hill they could only climb at a snail’s pace. For two hours we patiently followed the footpath, our guide informing us that when we reached the highest point of the ascent, we should have to bend a little to the right, and should then come upon some wheel-tracks made by the waggons loaded with wood, which the morena (king) would generally allow to pass through his territory to the diamond-fields. By following these tracks, always keeping to the left, and travelling without stopping, we might perhaps reach some native huts in the course of the night. It could not be said that the communication was very encouraging.
We were obliged to take a short rest, and while we were looking about us, we noticed a thick cloud overhanging the plains. Every one, natives included, settled that it was a huge swarm of locusts. I was occupied with my own matters, and soon forgot all about it. A sudden cry from one of the people in the waggon very shortly afterwards recalled my attention to what we had seen, and on looking again I beheld a sight that could not fail to fill me with amazement and alarm. The plain right in front of us, over which we were on the point of passing, was one sheet of flame. The cloud that we had observed turned out to be a volume of smoke rising above the bushwood, that was all on fire. The conflagration was perhaps five miles from us, but it was exactly across our path, and we might well feel dismayed.
The first among us to regain composure was our temporary guide, who pointed out that the waggon-tracks of which he had spoken were hardly twenty yards ahead; at least, we could reach them. We looked to the right; we looked to the left: on the right the ground was level, but it only led to a chain of hills, the base of which was already licked by the flames; on the left was a hollow which was just beginning to catch fire, and beyond it a little hillock some forty feet high. Our perplexities seemed only to increase; the oxen were too weary to allow us for one moment to think of retreating; they could not hold out for a mile; and yet something must be done; the fire was manifestly advancing in our very face. We discussed the possibility of setting fire to the bushwood close in front of us, and thus, as it were, forestalling the flames; but the scheme was not to be thought of; the waggon, which contained some thousands of cartridges, 300 lbs. of gunpowder, besides a quantity of spirits, was already so heated by the sun that we could scarcely lay our hands upon it; a single spark of fire would in an instant involve it in complete destruction, and the risk was too great.
THE PLAINS ON FIRE.
Page 225.
My eye still rested upon the little hill. I saw that the wind was blowing the flames in a direction away from it, and aware that delay would be fatal, and that some action must be taken, I gave my decision that at all hazards we must make for it. Every one agreed that I was right, and, rushing to their posts, did what they could to urge on the bullocks without a moment’s loss of time. Mounting my horse, I hurried on in front, but on reaching the hollow that had to be crossed before the place of safety upon the hill could be gained, I almost gave a cry of despair on seeing its character; it was not only overgrown with bushwood and very steep, but was strewn in all directions with huge blocks of stone: if only the waggon-wheel should strike against one of these, who could doubt the consequences?