“How much more of this desert have we to traverse,” said Alexander, “before we come to the river?”
“I fear that we shall not arrive there before to-morrow night,” said Swinton, “unless we travel on during the night, which I think will be the best plan; for, fatiguing as it will be to the animals, they will be even more exhausted if they pass another day under the burning sun without water, and at night they will bear their work better. We gain nothing by stopping, as the longer they are on the journey, the more they will be exhausted.”
“I really am fearful for the horses, they suffer so much.”
“At night we will wash their mouths with a sponge full of water; we can spare so much for the poor creatures.”
“In the deserts of Africa you have always one of three dangers to encounter,” said Swinton; “wild men, wild beasts, and want of water.”
“And the last is the worst of the three,” replied the Major. “We shall have a moon to-night for a few hours.”
“Yes, and if we had not, it would be of no consequence; the stars give light enough, and we have little chance of wild beasts here. We now want water; as soon as we get rid of that danger, we shall then have the other to encounter.”
The sun went down at last, the poor oxen toiled on with their tongues hanging out of their mouths. At sunset, the relay oxen were yoked, and they continued their course by the stars. The horses had been refreshed, as Swinton had proposed; but they were too much exhausted to be ridden, and our travellers, with their guns on their shoulders, and the dogs loose, to give notice of any danger, now walked by the sides of the waggons over the sandy ground. The stars shone out brilliantly, and even the tired cattle felt relief, from the comparative coolness of the night air. All was silent, except the creaking of the wheels of the waggons, and the occasional sighs of the exhausted oxen, as they thus passed through the desert.
“Well,” observed the Major, after they had walked about an hour without speaking, “I don’t know what your thoughts may have been all this while, but it has occurred to me, that a party of pleasure may be carried to too great lengths; and I think that I have been very selfish, in persuading Wilmot to undergo all that we have undergone and are likely to undergo, merely because I wished to shoot a giraffe.”
“I presume that I must plead guilty also,” replied Swinton, “in having assisted to induce him; but you know a naturalist is so ardent in his pursuit that he thinks of nothing else.”