Page:Seven Years in South Africa v1.djvu/436

 and making a lapping sound, he made me comprehend that we were to get some drinking-water. “Meci?” I inquired. “H-he, e-he,” he answered, and grinned again gleefully, so that I could not refuse to let him take me where he would.

True enough, in a little sandy hollow not far from the road was a pool full of water. Although some enus had been there within an hour and made it somewhat muddy, it was a welcome sight to me, and I drank eagerly.

When I raised my head from the pool my guide pointed to the black clouds, and made signs to me that we were in for a storm. It grew darker and darker, and very soon the rain began to fall heavily; the huge drops beating like hailstones upon my shivering body, and increasing the wretchedness of my condition. With considerate thoughtfulness the good Masarwa wrapped up my gun in his short leather mantle, and never failed to give me the support of his shoulder. I had the utmost difficulty in holding on. In some places the rain was so deep that we were wading almost to our knees.

Never was sound more welcome than the barking of my dog, which at last greeted my ears. Eberwald and Boly came running to meet us, and were inclined to reproach me with the anxiety I had caused them; they had yet to learn the misery I had endured.

Once again safely sheltered in the waggon, I