Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1890-02-01

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First We divided such articles - we muse
take with M into two equal parts, reject
ing everything that We could possibly do
without. Then, by an afeerthought, We
alled our water bottles, though ct the time
! was rather against doing 20, because
Of the extra weight. But tndaba- -ximbi
overruled me in tho matter, fortunately
for all three Of us. I settled to look
after Tota for the flrst march, and gave
the elephant gun to Indaba-ximb. Al
length all was ready, and we set out on
foot. By the help Of occasional lifts over
rough places, Tota managed to walk up
the slope ON the hillside where had shot
the Petite buck. At length we reached
II, and, looking at the country beyond,
gave an exclamation Of dismay. To
say that Il was desert would be saying
too much; IL was moro like the Barroo
In the Cape--a vast sandy waste, stud
ded here and there with low shrubs and
scattered rocks. But Il was . great ex-
panse Of desolatc land, stretching a. far
a. tho eye could reach, and bordered far
away BY . lime Of purple hills, in the
center Of which great solitary peak
scared high into the alr.
''lndaba-zimbi," said, 1--WE can never
cross this II we take six days"
Gas you will, MacumaxahD," he IN.
swercd; "but I tell you that there'--and
he pointed TO the peak-"there tho white
man lives. Turn which way you like,
but II you turn you will perish"
reflected for moment. Our case
was. humanity speaking, almost hopeless.
1t mattered little which way we went.
We were alone, almost without food,
with no means Of transport and child
to carry. As we'll perish in tho sandy
waste as on the rolling veldt or among
the trees Of the hillside. Providence
alone could save us, and we must trust
to providence.
"Come on" said, lifting Tota on 10
my back, for she was already tired.
"All roads lead to rest"
How am / to describe tho misery Of
tho next four daysr How am I to tell
how we stumbled on through that awful
desert. almost without food, and quito
without water, for there were no streams,
and we saw no springs? We soon found
how tho case was, and saved almost all
the water In our bottles for the child.
To look back on It Is like a nightmare.
can scarcely bear to dwell on II. Day
after day, by turns carrying the child
through the heavy sand; night after
night lying down in the scrub, chewing
the leaves, and licking such dew as there
was from the scanty grassl Not spring,
not pool, not head OF camel It was
the third night; we were nearly mad
with thirst. Tota was in q comatose
condition. Indaba-zimbi still had lit.
tie water in his bottle-perhaps wine
glassful. We moistened her lips and
our blackened tongues with It. Then
we gave the rest to the child. 1t revived
her. She awoke from her swoon to sink
into sleep.
See, the dawn was breaking. The hills
were not more than eight miles or 80
away now, and they were green.
There must be water there.
"Come," said.
Indaba-zimbi lifted Tota into the kind
OF sling that we had made out Of tho
blanket in which to carry her on our
backs, and we staggered on for an hour
through tho sand. She woke crying for
water, and alasl we had none to give
her; our tongues were hanging from our
lips; we could scarcely speak.
We rested awhile, and Tota mercifully
swooned away. Then Indaba-zimbi took
her. Though he was 80 thin, the old
mans strength was wonderful.
Another hour; the slope Of the great
| peak could not bo more than two miles
away now. A couple of hundred yards
of grew large baobalo tree. Could we
reach its shadep We had done half the
distance when Indaba-zimbi fell from ex-
haustion. We were now SO weak that
neither Of us could lift the child ON to
our backs. We each took one Of her
hands and dragged her along the road.
Fifty yards--they seemed to be fifty
miles. All, the tree was reached at last;
compared with the heat outside, the shade
Of its dense foliage seemed like the dusk
| and cool Of vault. remember think
ing that 1t was a good place to die in.
Then remember no more.
1woke with feeling as though the
blessed rain were falling on my face and
head. Slowly, and with great difficulty,
opened my eyes, then shut them again
having seen vision. For space lay
thus, while the rain continued to fall;
saw now that must be asleep, or of my
head with thirst or fever. II were moi
OFF my head, how came l to imagine
that q lovely dark eyed girl was bending
over me, sprinkling water on my face
A white girl, too, not a Kafiir woman
However, the dream went on.
"Hendrika," said a voice In English
the sweetest voice that l had ever heard
somehow 1t reminded me Of wind whis
pering in the trees at night. "Hen
drika, fear he dies; there is flask ol
brandy in my saddle bag; get it."
"Ahl ahl" grunted harsh voice il
answer; "let him die, Miss Stella. HI
will bring you bad luck--let him die,
say. felt movement of air above IN,
asthough the woman of my vision turnel
swiftly, and once again opened my
eyes. She had risen, this dream woman
Now saw that she was tall and grace
full as reed. She was angry, too; he
dark eyes flashed, and she pointed will
her hand at female who stood befor'
her, dressed in nondescrlpt kind o
clothes, such as might be worn by eithe
man or woman. The woman wa
young, Of white blood, very short, will
bowed legs and enormous shoulders. II
face she was not bad looking, but tn
brow receded, the chin and ears wer,
prominent-in short, she reminded IN,
of nothing SO much rs very handsome
monkey. She might have been the miss
ing link.
The lady was pointing at her with he
hand. slow dare you" she said. "Ar'
you going to disobey mo again? Hav,
you forgotten what told you, Babyal
(baboon)Y"
UAhi aht" pruntad fhe woman wh,