The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-01-28
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 Away to the south rose the heavy timber country-the mighty slopes surrounding Maroqweng and Honing vley; while to the north the land rose abruptly, mounting to the brown bush flats where the fly reign cd supreme, where the foliage wore hue which suggested the forced growth of a hot-house without a fair supply of moisture; where ''tuskers" congrexated. where giraffe browsed ca the topmost foliage of the stunted trees; and gensbok. eland. and roan antelope grazed together on the hay ike grass Here was the true des' ert: one unbroken sea of bush right ID to the marshy shores of Lake Ngami without water, almost with, out landmark-a veritable deathtrap fo the unwary.
 Close to the camp lay the indis- Gnct road, which was little better than cattle-spoor. The thought full mind might we'll wonder what manner of man had first broken his way through the maze and tangle of the Kalahari bush, and scratched that thin line across the continent. The desperate courage of that orig inAi pioneer must have been almost superhuman-
 Guy Chalmer was stretched out
 
 the wagon. His eyes were closed, and his pipe was loiling insecurely at the corner of his mouth. A crum- pied newspaper was on the blanket long ride from Jacobsdaal to join his wagon, which had been stationed at this spot for three days awaiting his arrival He had reached it early that morning, and was now enjoying well-earned rest. while his two horses were feeding out of a canvas manager rigged up along the dessel- boom of the wagon.
 E Perfect quiet reigned-that quiet which is only to be found in water less wastes; quiet apt to terrify as often as inspire a sense of peace, for the world seems so unutterably vast in Africa.s woodland deserts.
 A little distance away from the wagon, as though the terrific heat were insufficient, Basuto transport- rider was sitting idly over the white embers of the. campfire. Beyond the fire, on the opposite side, another Kaffir, one of a meaner race, was at- tending to camp-kettle of coffee simmering upon the bed of ashes. The silence of the desert seemed to have caught these too. for their usually busy tongues were still, and their eyes were dull and breeding. The thirsts lay all before them, every where. Where was the use of talk Where was the use of anything but to take all possible leisure before the hardships of their forthcoming jour ney?
 The afternoon wore on. Under the wagon the pipe dropped from Guys mouth. and his stertorous breathing told of a heavy sleep. The flies buz zed around, but the man was too weary to be distracted by them. The sun crept across the sky, and the shade beneath the wagon shifted. An hour later the sleeper awoke with a start. He was lying in the full glare of the sunlight, and sleep was no longer possible. He shifted his blan- ket into the lengthening shadow, and was about to lie down again when he suddenly altered his mind. Using the Boer tongue, he called out to the man beside the fire.
 Where are the cattle?" he asked.
 The transport-rider glanced up at the sky without shifting his position.
 They not come yet. The sun too high Not trek now. We wait"
 Guy came over to the fire.
 wen have 'scoff,'" he announced shortly After that it will be time to inspan. We must make twenty five miles tonight
 The hdIIlF nIfQSGl1, anu HIS master dipped a beaker of coffee out of the camp-kettle. He drank 1t with all South Africans relish.
 "De deish?" asked the headman, pointing to a haunch of springbok hanging in the shade of an adjacent , tree.
 Guy. nodded Even he displayed a saving of words out here in the desert
 The man went off for the meat, while the other Kaffir prepared q second pot with compressed vege- tables and water. and, setting it on the ashes, built the fire about it.
 An hour later the meal was ready. The three men devoured it in silence. Rough as the food was, the meal was not without relish. These men knew their country and their work. They