In South Africa there is but little twilight, and the darkness follows hard upon the heels of the day.

No sooner had the angry ball of the setting sun disappeared than the night swept with all her stars across the sky.

And now after her came the great storm, covering up her beauty with his blackness.

The air was stiflingly hot.

Above was a starry space, to the east the black bosom of the storm, in which the lightnings were already playing with an incessant flickering movement, and to the west a deep red glow, reflected from the sunken sun, yet lingered on the horizon.
On toiled the horses through the gathering gloom.