Once more was there a cracking of whips, and the oxen, straightening out along the trek-touw (Note 3), moved reluctantly on.
And now the moon, as had been anticipated, giving a bright light, the travellers made good way; before midnight arriving at the second vley, where fortunately there was still a soupçon of water. It was not visible above the surface of sand that formed the vley’s bed; but on examination, several cavities were discovered in which appeared the much wished-for element, that had been hollowed out by the hoofs of quaggas and zebras. Writers talk of instinct teaching these animals to dig their own drinking wells; but the teaching in reality comes from a process of reasoning-intelligence, as that of man himself. All naturalists know that, as indeed ought every one who owns dog or cat, and has observed either spring up to a door-handle, making attempt with manifest design to draw the door open.
Now, thirsting like sponges, the travellers out-spanned, and speedily. All hands that could be spared from looking after the cattle set about sinking a pit in the sand; into which, soon came water enough for all their needs.
It required caution, however, with much shouting, and wielding of jamboks, to keep the animals out of it. The scent of the water had reached their nostrils, an attraction irresistible, and horses neighed, yoke-oxen bellowed, cows groaned in chorus with their bawling calves, all madly eager to wet their muzzles, and quench their thirst that had so long tortured them.
But the Vee-Boers, accustomed to such display, knew the precautions to be taken; so kept the impatient creatures under restraint and aloof, at length giving them to drink, from the “rush-buckets” (Note 4), which were part of their impedimenta.
Their own thirst satisfied, then that of their stock, supper was eaten heartily, and they retired to rest and sleep. Not all, however; nearly a third of their number remaining awake, and on the alert, as guards of the camp. They had no fear of their animals wandering away, fatigued as these were. Even had it been otherwise, and ever so fresh, their straying would have been little apprehended. For on trek, horses and cattle—in short all domesticated quadrupeds—regard the great waggons as they would the houses of a homestead, and will return to them just the same. Instinct—or, from what has been said above, rather reason—admonishes them that beside these is their best place, safest from the attack of predatory beasts—above all, from the lion, the real bête-noir of South African cattle.
Those of our travelling party had been sufficiently frightened at their last halting-place, to keep them cowed, and tame, for at least twenty-four hours after; and just so were they, starting and trembling at every cry of wild creature that reached their ears—even at that of the cowardly hyaena.
And here they heard lions too, though none came near. At this vley, still affording enough water to attract fat quaggas, zebras, and gemsboks, the tawny monsters needed not whetting their teeth on tame cattle, lean and tough as those of the Vee-Boers had got to be.
So the night passed by without further disturbance or adventure; day broke again; breakfast was eaten; the oxen invoked; and the journey over the karoo continued.