"You surely don't think we're so far off still ?" "I don't know anything, lad," replied Ingleborough; "for, as I said before, the country is so big, and it is quite possible that we may have two or three days' journey before us yet." "But food--rest ?" faltered West.
"My eyes are wandering everywhere in search of food," replied Ingleborough, "and I keep on hoping to come upon a farmhouse somewhere in sight.

That will mean food, either given, bought, or taken by threatening with our rifles.

As to the rest, we'll have that when we get into Kimberley." Night fell without a sign of spruit, pool, or farm; but it was a bright, clear time, with the stars giving them sufficient light to keep on in the hope that was growing desperate that they must soon come upon some stream.

But they hoped in vain, and the ponies at last began to grow sluggish and indisposed to proceed whenever some patch of bush was reached in the midst of the dried-up expanse.
"There, it's of no use," said Ingleborough; "we may as well let the poor brutes browse upon such green shoots as they can find! They'll be all the fresher for the halt.

As for us, we must feed upon hope and the remembrance of the good things we have had in the past." "Don't let's give up yet!" replied West.