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第17章 OUR MARCH INTO THE DESERT(3)

With great difficulty,and by the promise of a present of a good hunting knife each,I succeeded in persuading three wretched natives from the village to come with us for the first stage,twenty miles,and to carry each a large gourd holding a gallon of water.My object was to enable us to refill our water-bottles after the first night's march,for we determined to start in the cool of the night.I gave out to these natives that we were going to shoot ostriches,with which the desert abounded.They jabbered and shrugged their shoulders,and said we were mad and should perish of thirst,which I must say seemed very probable;but being desirous of obtaining the knives,which were almost unknown treasures up there,they consented to come,having probably reflected that,after all,our subsequent extinction would be no affair of theirs.

All next day we rested and slept,and at sunset ate a hearty meal of fresh beef washed down with tea,the last,as Good sadly remarked,we were likely to drink for many a long day.Then,having made our final preparations,we lay down and waited for the moon to rise.At last,about nine o'clock,up she came in all her chastened glory,flooding the wild country with silver light,and,throwing a weird sheen on the vast expanse of rolling desert before us,which looked as solemn and quiet and as alien to man as the star-studded firmament above.We rose up,and in a few minutes were ready,and yet we hesitated a little,as human nature is prone to hesitate on the threshold of an irrevocable step.We three white men stood there by ourselves.Umbopa,assegai in hand and the rifle across his shoulders,a few paces ahead of us,looked out fixedly across the desert,the three hired natives,with the gourds of water,and Ventv?gel were gathered in a little knot behind.

"Gentlemen."said Sir Henry,presently,in his low,deep voice,"we are going on.about as strange a journey as men can make in this world.

It is very doubtful if we can succeed in it.But we are three men who will stand together for good or for evil to the last.And now before we start let us for a moment pray to the Power Who shapes the destinies of men,and who ages since has marked out our paths,that it may please him to direct our steps in accordance with his will."Taking off his hat he,for the space of a minute or so,covered his face with his hands,and Good and I did likewise.

I do not say that I am a first-rate praying-man;few hunters are;and as for Sir Henry,I never heard him speak like that before,and only once since,though deep down in his heart I believe he is very religious.

Good,too,is pious,though very apt to swear.Anyhow I do not think Iever,excepting on one single occasion,put in a better prayer in my life than I did during that minute,and somehow I felt the happier for it.Our future was so completely unknown,and I think the unknown and the awful always bring a man nearer to his Maker.

"And now,"said Sir Hay,"trek."

So we started.

We had nothing to guide ourselves by except the distant mountains and old Joséda Silvestra's chart,which,considering that it was drawn by a dying and half distraught man on a fragment of linen three centuries ago,was not a very satisfactory sort of thing to work on.Still,such as it was,our little hope of success depended on it.If we failed in finding that pool of bad water which the old don marked as being situated in the middle of the desert,about sixty miles from our starting-point and as far from the mountains,we must in all probability perish miserably of thirst.And to my mind the chances of our finding it in that great sea of sand and karoo scrub seemed almost infinitesimal.Even supposing Da Silvestra had marked it right,what was there to prevent its having been generations ago dried up by the sun,or trampled in by game,or filled with drifting sand?

On we tramped silently as shades through the night and in the heavy sand.The karoo bushes caught our shins and retarded us,and the sand got into our veldtschoons and Good's shooting-boots,so that every few miles we had to stop and empty them;but still the night was fairly cool,though the atmosphere was thick and heavy,giving a sort of creamy feel to the air,and we made fair progress.It was very still and lonely there in the desert,oppressively so indeed.Good felt this,and once began to whistle the "Girl I left behind me,"but the notes sounded lugubrious in that vast place,and he gave it up.Shortly afterwards a little incident occurred which,though it made us jump at the time,gave rise to a laugh.

Good,as the holder of the compass,which,being a sailor,of course he thoroughly understood,was leading,and we were toiling along in single file behind him,when suddenly we heard the sound of an exclamation,and he vanished.Next second there arose all round us a most extraordinary hubbub,snorts,groans,wild sounds of rushing feet.In the faint light,-too;we could descry dim,galloping forms half hidden by wreaths of sand.The natives threw down their loads and prepared to bolt,but,remembering that there was nowhere to bolt to,cast themselves upon the ground and howled out that it was the devil.As for Sir Henry and myself,we stood amazed;nor was our amazement lessened when we perceived the form of Good careering off in the direction of the mountains,apparently mounted on the back of a horse and halloing like mad.In another second he threw up his arms,and we heard him come to the earth with a thud.Then I saw what had happened:

we had stumbled right on to a herd of sleeping quagga,on to the back of one of which Good had actually fallen,and the brute had naturally enough got up and made off with him.Singing out to the others that it was all right,I ran towards Good,much afraid lest he should be hurt,but to my great relief found him sitting in the sand,his eye-glass still fixed firmly in his eye,rather shaken and very much startled,but not in any way injured.

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