He was no longer afraid that the quagga, blinded as he now was, would make any attempt to get off; nor did he.
In a few minutes the broken bit-ring was replaced by a strong rheim of raw leather; the bit inserted between the quagga's teeth, the head-stall safely buckled, and Hendrik once more in the saddle, with his jacket upon his back.
The quagga felt that he was conquered.

His old associates were no longer in sight to tempt him from his allegiance; and with these considerations, aided by a slight dose of bit and spur, he turned his head, and moved sullenly upon the back-track.

Hendrik knew nothing about the route he should take.

He followed back the spoor of the quaggas to the place where he had dropped his gun, which after riding a mile or two he recovered.
As there was no sun in the sky, nor other object to guide him, he thought he could not do better than trace back the spoor; and although it led him by many a devious route, and he saw nothing more of his eland, before night he reached the pass in the cliff, and was soon after sitting under the shadow of the nwana-tree, regaling a most interested audience with the narrative of his day's adventures..