After traveling ten days the caravan issued from the mountain pass and entered a very different region, an extended plain, mostly level, but broken here and there by small, wave-like hillocks. The vegetation was completely changed. No large trees towered above the waving, grassy plain. Only here and there, quite far apart, there sprang up rubber-acacias, with coral-colored and umbrella-shaped stems, but scanty foliage, and therefore furnishing but little shade. In some places between the ant-hills a species of euphorbia, with branches resembling the arms of a candlestick, grew taller than the grass. Hawks soared high in the air, and lower down black and white feathered crow-like birds flew from one acacia bush to the other. The grass was yellow and had ears like ripe corn. The dried-up jungle seemed to furnish abundant food for many different kinds of animals, for during the day the travelers often met large herds of antelope and a great many zebras. The heat on the open and treeless plain became unbearable. The sky was cloudless, the days were fiery hot, and the night did not bring much relief.

Day by day the journey grew more arduous. The small villages through which the caravan passed were inhabited by the wildest savages, who were so terror-stricken that they received the travelers very reluctantly, and if it had not been for the numerous armed men and the sight of white faces, and King and Saba, great danger would have threatened them.

Stasch, aided by Kali, learned that there were no more villages farther on, and that they were coming to a waterless district. The tales they heard were hard to believe, for the numerous animals they saw must have found some watering-place. But these stories of a desert in which there was rumored to be neither stream nor puddle frightened the negroes, and some of them deserted the party, and M’Kunji and M’Pua set the example. Fortunately, their flight was quickly perceived, and the mounted troupe which accompanied the travelers discovered them before they had gotten far from the camp. When they were brought back Kali, by the aid of a bamboo rod, convinced them of the inadvisability of such a course. Stasch assembled the whole company and gave them a lecture, which the young negro translated into their native language. Dwelling on the fact that at their last headquarters they had heard lions roaring around the camp all night, Stasch did his best to convince his people that any one attempting to run away would certainly become their prey, or if he were to pass the night in an acacia tree the still more terrible wobos would lie in wait for him. He also said that where there are antelope there must also be water, and that if in the course of their journey they were to strike waterless regions, they could take with them enough water for two or three days in bags of antelope skin. The negroes paid strict attention to what he said, and continually repeated:

“Oh, mother, how true it is!” but the following night five Samburus and two Wa-himas deserted, and from that time some one was missing every night. But M’Kunji and M’Pua did not make a second attempt to escape for the simple reason that Kali had them bound at sundown every night.

The country became drier and drier, the sun beat down mercilessly on the jungle, and not a single acacia could now be seen. They still came across herds of antelope, though fewer than they had seen previously. The donkey and the horses so far had enough food, for beneath the high dried grass they found in many places short, green grass only slightly scorched by the sun. But King, although he was not fastidious, became much thinner. On approaching an acacia he would break it apart with his head and trunk and fill himself with young leaves and pods. Until now the caravan had always been able to strike water, though it was often bad and had to be filtered, or so salty that it was not fit to drink. Then it often happened that the men Stasch sent out in advance under Kali’s guidance would return without having found a single puddle or even a tiny brook in the hollows of the ground, and Kali would proclaim in troubled tones, “Madi apana”—“There is no water there.”

Stasch was soon convinced that this long, final journey would certainly not be easier than the ones they had accomplished before, and he began to worry about Nell, for a great change had also come over her. Her face, instead of being tanned by the sun and wind, had become paler and paler day by day and her eyes had lost their accustomed brilliancy. Fortunately, on these dry plains there were no flies nor danger of fever, but it was very evident that the unbearable heat was wasting away the girl’s strength. Even now the boy looked sadly and apprehensively at her little hands, which had become as white as paper, and he bitterly reproached himself for having lost so much time in making preparations and in instructing the negroes how to shoot that he had to continue the journey in the hottest time of the year.

With these anxieties the days passed. Even more greedily and mercilessly the sun drank the dampness and the life from the earth. The grass shriveled and dried up until it was so brittle that it broke off under the hoofs of the antelope, which threw up clouds of dust as they passed. But the travelers now found a small stream, which they distinguished from a distance by the long rows of trees growing on its banks. The negroes ran as fast as they could toward the trees, and on arriving at the bank threw themselves down side by side on the ground, dipping their heads in the water and drinking so greedily that they only desisted when a crocodile caught one of them by the hand. Other negroes immediately hastened to the assistance of their comrade and drew the horrible reptile out of the water at once, but it would not let go of the man’s hand, although they opened its jaws with spears and knives. King, however, made an end of it by trampling it under foot, as if it had been a rotten mushroom. When the negroes had at last quenched their thirst, Stasch ordered a round fence of tall bamboos to be erected in the shallow water, so it could only be entered from one side of the bank, that Nell might bathe in privacy. The girl was greatly refreshed by the bath, after which she lay down, and after a rest felt greatly strengthened.

To the great delight of the whole caravan, including Nell, Bwana Kubwa decided to remain ten days near the water. When this became known all felt so happy that they forgot the fatigue they had experienced; some, after being restored by a good nap, wandered among the trees near the stream looking for palms that bear wild dates,^[44] called Job’s tears,^[45] of which necklaces are made. Some of them returned before sunset carrying in their hands square, white objects, which Stasch recognized as his own kites.

One of these kites bore the number seven, which proved that it had been sent up from Linde Mountain, for the children had sent up at least ten from that place. The sight of this pleased Stasch so much that he took heart again.

“I had no idea,” he said to Nell, “that the kites could fly so far. I was sure that they would be entangled in the peaks of the Karamajo Mountains, and I only sent them up thinking to let them take their chance. But now I see that the wind can carry them in any direction, and I trust those we sent up from the mountains around the Basso-Narok and on the road here will fly as far as the ocean.”

“They will certainly fly there,” said Nell.

“So be it!” said the boy to strengthen his trust, while thinking of the dangers and difficulties that still lay before them on their journey.

The third day the caravan started off again, taking with them a large supply of water in the leather bags. Before nightfall they again came to a region dried up by the rays of the sun. Not even an acacia was to be seen, and the ground in some places resembled a threshing-floor. Occasionally they came across passiflora with stems penetrating the ground and resembling huge bottle-gourds,^[46] as much as four feet or more in diameter. From these enormous balls grew lianas, thin as twine, which crept along the ground quite a distance, forming such an impenetrable thicket that even mice would have had a hard time to find a way through it. But notwithstanding the beautiful green of these plants, which remind one of the European bear’s-foot, they were so very thorny that neither King nor the horses could eat any part of them. The donkey, however, nibbled at them, though very carefully.

At times they saw nothing for several miles except coarse short grass and flowers of a low order, like the DÜrrblumen,^[47] which breaks off at the merest touch. On their first day in this place the sun beat down in fiery heat all day long. The air quivered as it does in the Libyan desert. The earth was so flooded with light that all objects appeared white. Not a sound, not even the buzzing of insects, broke the deathlike stillness, through which penetrated the wilting glare.

All in the party were bathed in perspiration. Now and again they would lay down the baggage, the dried meat, and the shields in a large pile, so as to find shade beneath it. Stasch gave orders to be sparing of the water; but negroes are like children, who take no thought for the morrow. At last it became necessary to place a guard around those who carried the bags of provisions, and to deal out a fixed allowance of water to each one separately. Kali fulfilled this task very conscientiously, but it consumed a great deal of time, retarded their march, and therefore the finding of new watering-places. The Samburus now complained that the Wa-himas were given more water than they, and the Wa-himas complained that the preference was shown to the Samburus. The latter now threatened to turn back, but Stasch gave them to understand that if they did Faru would have them beheaded, and he himself ordered the hunters, who were armed with Remington rifles, to keep guard and see that no one escaped.

The second night they passed on a barren plain. No boma, or, as they called it in the Sudanese language, zareba, was erected, for there was nothing there to build it of.

King and Saba formed the camp guards, which in reality was sufficient protection; but King, who had not been given a tenth of the water he needed, trumpeted for it until sunrise, and Saba hung out his tongue, turned his eyes toward Stasch and Nell, silently begging for at least a few drops of water to drink. The girl asked Stasch to give the dog a little drink of water out of one of the rubber bags which they had found among Linde’s things, and which he wore attached to a cord around his neck, but he was keeping this for the little girl, in case of dire necessity, and refused her request.

Toward evening of the fourth day there were only five small bags of water left, containing hardly enough to give each person half a glassful. But as the nights were always cooler than the days, one is not so thirsty then as under the burning rays of the sun, and as every one had been given a little water to drink in the morning, Stasch ordered that the water-bags be reserved for the following day. The negroes grumbled at this, but they still stood in such awe of Stasch that they did not dare to tamper with the little that was left, especially as there were always two men armed with Remington rifles keeping guard over the water-bags, who relieved each other every hour. The Wa-himas and the Samburus quenched their thirst as best they could by pulling up miserable blades of grass and chewing their small roots, but even these had retained no moisture, for the merciless sun had sucked it all out of the ground.^[48]

Although sleep did not quench their thirst, it at least enabled them to forget it. At night every one of the party, tired and exhausted from the day’s march, dropped down where he stood, apparently lifeless, and fell fast asleep. Stasch also slept, but he was too much worried and troubled to sleep long and restfully. After a few hours he awoke and began to wonder what the future would bring forth and where he could find water for Nell and the whole caravan, man and beast. The situation was difficult and even terrible, but as yet the sensible boy did not yield to despair. He recalled all that had happened since they had been carried off from Fayoum until the present moment—the first great journey through the Sahara, the hurricane in the desert, the escape from Gebhr, then the journey which they took after Linde’s death to Lake Basso-Narok and on to where they were now stopping. “We have gone through so much, and suffered so much,” he said to himself. “How often it seemed to me that everything had collapsed and I could find no way out of my difficulties; yet God helped me, and I always found a way out. It is quite impossible that after having gone so far and been through so many dangers we should give out on this last journey. We still have a little water, and this place is certainly not the Sahara, for if it were the people would surely have known it!”

But he was especially elated by the fact that during the day he had seen through the telescope indistinct outlines, as of mountains, lying toward the south. To reach them would mean a journey of perhaps a hundred miles; but if they only could reach them they would be saved, for mountains are rarely without water. How much time that would require he was unable to tell, for it depended on the height of the mountain. In air so transparent as in Africa high summits can be seen a considerable distance away, so water must be found nearer by. Otherwise destruction threatened them.

“It must be done!” Stasch repeated to himself.

The hard breathing of the elephant, who was trying his best to blow the fiery heat out of his lungs, continually interrupted the thoughts of the boy. But after a while it seemed to him as if he heard a voice like some one groaning, which sounded as though it came from another part of the camp; in fact, from where the water-bags lay covered up for the night with grass. As the groaning continued, he arose and went to see what was the matter. The night was so bright that in the distance he could see two dark bodies lying side by side and the barrels of the guns glistening in the moonlight.

“The negroes are all alike!” he thought. “They should be guarding this water, which is now more precious to us than anything else in the world, and both of them are sleeping as soundly as if in their own huts. Ah! Kali’s bamboo will be of some use to-morrow!”

With these thoughts he approached nearer and kicked one of the guards, but immediately drew back horrified—for the apparently sleeping negro lay on his back with a knife thrust up to the hilt in his throat, and beside him lay the other man with his throat so terribly cut that his head was nearly severed from his body.

Two bags of water had disappeared—three lay in the middle of the uprooted grass slit open and shriveled.

Stasch’s hair stood on end.