stop sooner than I intended, and we did not start next morning until we had met with a young Batlapin, who agreed to act as guide. At noon we took our rest under the shade of a spreading mimosa, after which we made an unusually long march, and encamped for the night in the open plateau.
A landscape of peculiar beauty lay outstretched around us. The Hebron heights and their dark spurs veiled in purple haze bounded the horizon to the south and west, whilst to the north and east the vast plains were shrouded in the distance by a deepening tint, a sure token that the night would be one of those that in South Africa are ever to be remembered for their splendour. A soft air was swaying the flowery grass, of which the seeds had been sown by the wind and imbedded in the soil by the feet of the game. A beauteous tint began to tinge its surface, and soon a gorgeous stream of sunlight broke forth, its golden rays illuminating the far-off east. Was not that the direction of my cherished home? Was it not irradiating the very scenes of my childhood and beaming on the dwellings of my kindred? I sunk into tender contemplation, and our camp, the plain, the watchfire, Gassibone, nay, Africa itself, were all forgotten! It was a peaceful evening, followed by a peaceful night, as if to fortify us for the anxiety which we little expected on the morrow.
The figure of our black driver passed between me and the glowing light, and recalled me to myself.
