CHAPTER THIRTY.
AN ESCAPE FROM THE BEAR-SCRAPE.
For hours they sat upon their painful perch--now glancing downward at the fierce gaoler that watched unweariedly below--now gazing out upon the plain, where the dusky droves still continued to move.

For hours the buffaloes kept passing northward, until the setting sun glanced redly from their brown bodies.

Once or twice again the boys thought they saw white ones in the herd; but their eyes had grown dim with watching, and the pain which they endured now rendered them indifferent to aught else than their own misery.

Despair had conquered hope--for they were choking with thirst--and death stared them in the face.
After a long while the bear again lay down, and placing his fore-paws over his head appeared once more to sleep.

Basil could stand it no longer; and now resolved to make an effort to escape.