The cow had escaped from the tsetse by avoiding the cliffs, and keeping out upon the plain; and this animal now constituted his whole live-stock,--his whole property! True, he still had his fine wagon; but of what use would that be without either oxen or horses?
a wagon without a team! Better a team without a wagon.
What could he do?
How was he to escape from the position he was placed in?
To say the least, it was an awkward one--nearly two hundred miles from any civilised settlement, and no means of getting there,--no means except by walking; and how were his children to walk two hundred miles?
Impossible! Across desert tracts, exposed not only to terrible fatigue, but to hunger, thirst, and fierce carnivorous animals.

It appeared impossible that they could accomplish such a task.
And what else was there to be done?
asked the field-cornet of himself.
Were they to remain there all their lives, subsisting precariously on game and roots?
Were his children to become "Bush-boys,"-- himself a Bushman?
With these reflections passing through his mind, no wonder that Von Bloom felt deeply afflicted.
"Merciful Heaven!" he exclaimed, as he sat with his head between his hands, "what will become of me and mine ?" Poor Von Bloom! he had reached the lowest point of his fortunes.
He had, in reality, reached the _lowest_ point; for on that very day,-- even within that very hour--an incident occurred, that not only gave relief to his afflicted spirit, but that promised to lay the foundation of future wealth and prosperity.

In one hour from that time the prospects of the field-cornet had undergone a complete change,--in one hour from that time he was a happy man, and all around him were as happy as he! You are impatient to hear how this change was effected?
What little fairy had sprung out of the spring, or come down from the cliffs, to befriend the good field-cornet in his hour of misery?
You are impatient to hear! Then you _shall_ hear.
The sun was just going down.

They were all seated under the great tree, and near a fire, upon which they had cooked their supper.

There was no talking, no cheerful conversation,--for the children saw that their father was in trouble, and that kept them silent.