The heat was terrible, and at last they were compelled to halt beneath the shade of a clump of trees to rest and refresh.
This was followed by a nap, and afterwards, they felt so disheartened and footsore that they decided to return.
“Let’s go back, father,” Dick had said, “and come on to-morrow morning with the horses.”
“To be sure,” said Jack. “We could canter straight here without loss of time.”
“What do you say, General?” asked Mr Rogers.
“I say it would be wise,” replied the Zulu. “The elephants leave their path behind them, and you can come up rested and ready to fire.”
Even without these remarks Mr Rogers would have returned, for the dread of over-fatiguing Dick, would have been quite sufficient to make him pause. The boy had altered wonderfully; but still there were limits to the fatigue he could bear.
They went quietly back, then, as the sun was getting low, and contented themselves with a few shots at the guinea-fowl which came over by hundreds, on their way to particular spots to roost.
Before daylight, though, the next morning, they were in the saddle, carrying with them provisions and water; and they were miles along the track before the sun showed, by a robe of orange and a crown of ruddy rays, that he was about to flood the earth once more with light.
The consequence was that they reached the spot where they had left off tracking quite early in the morning, the General, Coffee, and Chicory, although they had run all the way, seeming to be as fresh as when they had started, and laughing at the idea of their feeling fatigue.