I knew whereabouts the drift of the Crocodile River should be, as I had crossed it twice before in my life, and kept my eyes open for a certain tall koppie which stood within half a mile it on the Swazi side of the river.

Ultimately to my joy I caught sight of this hill faintly outlined against the sky and headed for it.

Half a mile further on I struck a wagon-track made by Boers trekking into Swazi-Land to trade or shoot.

Then I knew that the drift was straight ahead of us, and called to Anscombe to flog up the weary horses.
We reached the river just before the dawn.

To my horror it was very full, so full that the drift looked dangerous, for it had been swollen by the thunder-rain of the previous night.