The morning broke dark and lowering, with great thunder clouds in the north; and as it was evident that it was raining hard, as it can rain sometimes in South Africa, and they might get caught, it was decided to spend the morning at home, and devote that day to a general clean up of arms, and a repacking of the waggon, which needed doing sadly. Besides which there were cases of stores that they had not yet been able to get at; and these it was advisable to have, especially a whole barrel of fine flour, which was right at the bottom.
Arms were cleaned, then, till Dinny announced breakfast, with three hot roast quails, that had been knocked down by Chicory that morning.
These were a delicious treat, being about three times the size of the little English quail; and the hearty breakfast having come to an end, Mr Rogers climbed into the waggon, followed by the boys, the General and his sons went off to collect wood for firing, while Peter and Dirk, with a yoke of bullocks, brought it to the camp and made a stack, upon which Dinny soon began to make inroads for culinary purposes, as he had cakes to bake, and a large joint of eland to cook for an early dinner—for if it seemed likely to hold up, an expedition was determined on in search of giraffes for the afternoon.
It was very busy and very warm work under the tilt of the waggon, but the two boys toiled away with a will, and package after package of forgotten luxuries was unearthed, and placed where it could be used.
“Hurray, father!” cried Jack, “here’s a box of cornflour.”
“And here’s another bag of rice,” cried Dick.
“Better still,” said Mr Rogers, laughing. “Here’s something that will suit you, Dick.”
“What? More sugar, father?”
“No. You were grumbling about always drinking your coffee without milk; here’s a case of Swiss condensed.”
“If the sugar ran out,” said Jack, “we could get honey.”