“I hope the country ahead is not all to be like this,” said the former.
“No fear of that,” answered Denis. “We shall have, to be sure, a few stony mountains to climb over, and now and then, in parts, it’s hard to find a tree, but that’s only here and there; for there are forests, and grassy meadows, and streams, and beautiful valleys, such as are to be found in no other part of the world, or, at all events, none superior to them, in my opinion. Look out there ahead, you’ll see, just rising above the plain, what I daresay you took to be a cloud, but it is a range of mountains; when we get over them, we shall have fine scenery enough to satisfy you. We shall then meet also with what you fellows from the old country call adventures, but which we out here are so accustomed to that we do not think much about them.”
Dreary as was the scenery in other respects, it was enlivened by numberless gorgeous flowers, the beauty of which Harry Crawford was well able to appreciate, although ignorant of the names of most of them.
“We should value these in our hot-houses at home,” he said.
“For my part I’d sooner have plenty of green grass,” observed Denis, “and so would the cattle, I’ve a notion. To say the truth, I’ve seen so many of these things that I no longer pay any attention to them, although they are mighty fine, I’ll acknowledge, now that I come to examine them more particularly.”
Percy, who admired the flowers as much as his friend did, every now and then got off his horse to pick some of them, until he had collected a large bouquet, greatly to the amusement of Denis.
“Take care, my boy, not to catch hold of the tail of a puff adder,” he exclaimed, as Percy again dismounted. “They are pretty numerous hereabouts, and you may chance to put your hand close to one of their holes while you are picking those flowers.”
Percy, without making any remark, threw himself into his saddle again, satisfied with the collection he had already made.
As they advanced the country improved. They passed the ruins of several farms, the owners of which had “trekked” to the Transvaal republic.
Hour after hour the waggon proceeded on through the same monotonous style of country, until towards evening, no other more convenient spot being found, a halt was called near one of the mounds which have been described, and close by which ran a small “spruit,” or stream, affording the weary oxen sufficient water to quench their thirst. As no trees or shrubs grew near, a quantity of dry dung was collected to serve as fuel. This, when once lighted, threw out an intense heat, quickly boiling all the pots placed over it; but as it produced little or no flame, it was not so well calculated to serve as a watch fire to scare away wild beasts as one formed of wood. It was necessary, therefore, to keep a stricter watch than usual at night, lest a lion might visit the camp with the intention of making a feast off one of the oxen or horses.