But it was a great expanse of desolate land, stretching further than the eye could reach, and bordered far away by a line of purple hills, in the centre of which a great solitary peak soared high into the air.
"Indaba-zimbi," I said, "we can never cross this if we take six days." "As you will, Macumazahn," he answered; "but I tell you that there"-- and he pointed to the peak--"there the white man lives.

Turn which way you like, but if you turn you will perish." I reflected for a moment, Our case was, humanly speaking, almost hopeless.

It mattered little which way we went.

We were alone, almost without food, with no means of transport, and a child to carry.

As well perish in the sandy waste as on the rolling veldt or among the trees of the hill-side.