This was satisfactory, and they trudged on and on, with the land gradually rising, making the pull more heavy for the oxen, whose tongues were lolling out, and whose efforts at last became so painful that Mr Rogers at once accepted his sons’ proposal, which was that the horses should help.
A halt was called, and great stones were placed beneath the wheels to make sure that there should be no running backwards on the part of the waggon, and then the tethering ropes were fastened to the horses’ saddles; the Zulus and the boys took their head; the word was given to start; the ropes that had been secured to different parts of the waggon tightened; and though the horses could not pull as if they were properly harnessed, the impulse they gave relieved the weary oxen, and after half an hour’s toilsome drag, the waggon was drawn to the top of the incline, and the travellers had the pleasure of seeing that a tolerably level way lay before them.
But there was no sign of water, and Mr Rogers looked serious as he swept the dimly seen country before him with his glass.
“Had we not better outspan here?” he said, “and let the oxen rest. We could start again at daybreak.”
But the General shook his head.
“No, boss,” he replied. “Let us go on. We may find water yet.”
Mr Rogers gave way, and in a listless, weary fashion the heavy waggon was dragged on.
“Oh, I am so tired,” cried Jack; “and I’d give anything to be able to walk right into a big pond and drink, and soak myself outside. My skin feels as if it was cracking.”
“I’m very tired, too,” said Dick; “but not so tired as I thought I should be. Why I must have walked twenty miles to-day. I wonder whether that means that I am growing stronger.”
“You need not wonder,” said Mr Rogers, who had heard his words. “You may be sure, my boy. But how dark it is growing! There are the stars.”