I tried to cheer him up, and made another attempt to eat some venison, but had to give it up after nibbling at a piece; yet I felt that I could have swallowed a hearty meal, if I could have obtained a draught of water, however tepid and full of insects it might have been.
We were sitting a short distance from the fire with our rifles in our hands, prepared for the reception of the lion, should he venture to invade our camp, when Harry exclaimed, “Hark! I hear footsteps: they must be those of Hans and your black fellow.”
We listened; and I hoped that Harry was right.
“Let us shout!” I exclaimed.
We both together raised our voices. Our hail was answered from a distance. The night air had brought the sound of footsteps much further than I should have supposed possible. It was some time before, by the light of the fire, we saw the rough, uncouth figure of Hans, followed by Jan.
“Have you brought water?” was the first question Harry asked.
“Yah! we have brought water, and have seen plenty of elephants—fine country for shooting, and we will go there to-morrow.”
“Never mind the elephants and shooting now; hand me the water,” cried Harry, eagerly.
Hans gave Harry his skin bottle, and Jan hurried up with his to me. I swallowed the liquid eagerly, hot and nauseous as it was, full, I suspect, of living creatures; but it tasted like nectar, and I half emptied the bottle at a draught.
“Now I am ready for the venison!” cried Harry.