“Well, Mr Marais, I come from England, which is my native home. In the coming I managed to get wrecked in Table Bay, landed at Capetown, joined a frontier farmer, and came up here—a long and roughish journey, as probably you know, and as my garments testify. On the way I lost my comrades, and in trying to find them lost myself. For two days nothing in the shape of meat or drink has passed my lips, and my poor horse has fared little better in the way of drink, though the karroo-bush has furnished him with food enough to keep his bones together. So now, you have my biography in brief, and if you be a man possessed of any powers of sympathy, you will know what to do.”
The young Dutchman held out his huge hand, which Considine grasped and shook warmly.
“Come,” he said, while a slight smile played on his bronzed countenance; “I have nothing here to give you, but if you will come with me to yon koppie you shall have both meat and drink.”
The koppie to which he referred was a scarce discernible knoll on the horizon.
Hans Marais seemed to be a man of few words, for he turned and galloped away, without for some time uttering another syllable to his companion. As for Considine, the thought of once more feasting on any sort of meat and drink was so fascinating, in his then ravenous condition, that he cared for nought else, and followed his guide in silence.
Soon the herbage on the plain became more luxuriant, and in half an hour the two horsemen found themselves riding among scattered groups of mimosa bushes, the thorns of which were from three to five inches long, while their sweet fragrance scented the whole atmosphere.
On reaching the ridge of one of the undulations of the plain, Hans Marais drew rein and gazed intently towards the distant horizon. At the same time Considine’s horse pricked up its ears, pawed the ground, and exhibited unwonted signs of a desire to advance.
“Hallo, Rob!” exclaimed its master, “what’s wrong with you?”
“Your horse has been gifted by his Maker with a power,” said Hans, “which has been denied to man. He scents water. But before he shall taste it he must help me to procure fresh meat. Do you see the boks on that koppie?”
“Do you mean those white specks like ostrich eggs on the hillock to the right of the big bush?”