He could do nothing--nothing but keep his seat.
What thought he?
At first, not much.

At first he regarded the adventure lightly.

When he was about completing his third mile, he began to deem it more serious; and as he entered upon the fifth, he became convinced that he was neither more nor less than in a very awkward scrape.
But the fifth mile was left behind, and then a sixth, and a seventh; and still the quaggas galloped wildly on--the drove actuated by the fear of losing their liberty, and their old comrade by the desire of regaining his.
Hendrik now felt real uneasiness.

Where were they going?
Where was the brute carrying him?
Perhaps off to the desert, where he might be lost and perish of hunger or thirst! Already he was many miles from the cliffs, and he could no longer tell their direction.

Even had he halted then and there, he could not tell which way to turn himself.