bullied, he will patiently wait his chance and take
his revenge—and pick the right man too.
“Vice or bad temper,” says the indignant
victim; “Intelligence,” say I. In matters
of loading and saddling, ignorance causes great suffering
to camels. I can imagine few things more uncomfortable
than having to carry 150 pounds on one side of the
saddle and perhaps 250 pounds on the other, and yet
if the poor beast lies down and complains, in nine
cases out of ten his intelligent master will beat him
unmercifully as a useless brute! Nearly every
sore back amongst a mob of camels is the result of
carelessness. It is hard to avoid, I am well
aware, but it can be done; and I speak as an authority,
for during our journey to Kimberley and the journey
back again, over such country as I have endeavoured
faithfully to describe, there were only two cases of
camels with sore backs—one was Billy, who
had an improperly healed wound when we started, which,
however, we soon cured; the other Stoddy, on the return
journey. This state of affairs was not brought
about except by bestowing great care and attention
on the saddles, which we were continually altering,
as they were worn out of shape, or as the camels became
thinner—and thin they were, poor things,
tucked up like greyhounds! A few days’
rest and feed, fortunately soon puts a camel right,
and such they could have at the little oasis we had
reached on October 5th. In the centre of it lay
a splendid little spring, in many ways the most remarkable
feature we had encountered, and therefore I christened
it after one whose love and helpful sympathy in all
my work, has given me strength and courage—my
sister Helena.
CHAPTER XII
HELENA SPRING
“My native valley hath a thousand springs, but
not to one of them shall I attach hereafter, such
precious recollections as to this solitary fount,
which bestows its liquid treasures where they are not
only delightful, but nearly indispensable.”
So spake Sir Kenneth of Scotland in “The Talisman.”
Surely the Christian knight, dragging his way across
the sands of Palestine, was not more pleased to reach
the “Diamond of the Desert” than we were
to light upon this charming little oasis, hidden away
in the dreary solitude of the surrounding sandhills;
the one spot of green on which one’s eyes may
rest with pleasure in all this naked wilderness.
At the bottom of a hollow enclosed between two sand-ridges
is a small surface outcrop of limestone of similar
character to that in which Empress Spring is situated.
In this is a little basin, nearly circular, about
2 feet 6 inches in diameter and 3 feet deep, with a
capacity of about seventy gallons. This is the
spring, fed at the bottom of the basin from some subterranean
source by a narrow tunnel in the rock, a natural drain,
not six inches in diameter. Through this passage,
from the West, the water rises, filling the rocky