Page:Livingstone in Africa.djvu/69

Rh Days without water! ne'er a watermelon Even, to slake a moment hell's own drought! Hark! shouts of joy break in upon the drear Faint slumbrous silence of our fiery way: All startled raise dim half-closed aching eyes— Behold the lake! our goal in sight! Hurrah! Lofty palmyras, palm, acacia, O'er hazy waters purple in the sun, Who sets below in solitary glory— And surely on a pale horizon line Tall sable horsemen galloping furiously! See the slow oxen gaze aroused, and lowing Hasten—behold black bulks of elephant, And slim giraffes, show water to be near! Shall we pursue?

All blows like slanting flame; drifting divides. It was the Satan's simulated water! And only mist roll'd over a salt plain. Yet the same region hath its wither'd herb;