“They are safe this time,” observed Major Henderson; “but another day we will try their mettle.”
“You will find them fierce and dangerous when wounded, sir,” said Bremen, who had ridden up. “We are not many miles from the river, for the cattle begin to sniff.”
“I am delighted to hear you say so; for then there must be water near. But the haze and glare together are so great that we cannot distinguish above two miles, if so much.”
“No, sir,” replied the Hottentot; “but I can see well enough to see them,” continued he, pointing with his finger to a rising ground about a hundred yards off; on the right of them. “One, two, three—there are five of them.”
“What are they?” said the Major, looking in the direction pointed out. “I see; they are lions.”
“Yes, sir; but we must take no notice of them, and they will not annoy us. They are not hungry.”
“You are right,” said Swinton: “we must go right on, neither stopping nor hastening our speed. Let the driver look to the oxen; for tired as they are, the smell of the lions is sufficient to give them ungovernable strength for the moment.”
“Well,” said the Major, “bring us our guns, Bremen. I am willing to accept the armed neutrality, if they will consent to it.”
The caravan passed on; the lions remaining crouched where they were, eyeing them, it is true, but not rising from their beds. The oxen, however, either through fear of the lions, or the scent of water near, became more brisk in their motions, and in half an hour they perceived a line of trees before them, which told them that they were near the bed of the Nu Gareip or Cradock River.
The poor animals redoubled their exertions, and soon arrived at the banks. Bremen had ridden forward and reported that there still was water in the river, but only in pools. As the herbage was destroyed on the side where they were, they would have crossed the bed of the river before they unyoked, but that they found impossible. The animals were so impatient for the water, that, had they not been released, they would have broken the waggons.