shall have the Hottentots."

He was as good as his word, the barn was crowded, the sermon was
preached, and the astonished Hottentots dispersed. "Who," said the
farmer, "hardened your hammer to deal my head such a blow? I'll never
object to the preaching of the Gospel to Hottentots again."

After a toilsome march, during which Mr. Kitchingman and Moffat took it
in turn to drive the cattle, losing some through the hyenas by the way,
they reached Bysondermeid, to which station Mr. and Mrs. Kitchingman had
been appointed. There Robert stayed one month, receiving much useful
information from Mr. Schmelen, the missionary whom Mr. Kitchingman had
come to replace, he having been ordered to Great Namaqualand, where he
had laboured before.

At length, his oxen being rested, Robert Moffat bade adieu to Mr. and
Mrs. Kitchingman, whose friendship he much valued, and with a guide and
drivers for the oxen started onward. Their way led through a
comparatively trackless desert, and they travelled nearly the whole
night through deep sand. Those were not the days of railway trains, and
travelling had to be undertaken in cumbrous, springless bullock-waggons,
several spare oxen being taken to provide for losses and casualties.
Towards morning the oxen were so exhausted that they began to lie down
in the yoke from fatigue, compelling a halt before water had been
reached. The journey was resumed the next day, but still no water could
be found.

As it appeared probable that if they continued in the same direction,
they would perish through thirst, they altered their course to the
northward, but the experiences were as bad as before. At night they lay