Owing to the general reluctance that had hitherto been displayed to turning out of bed in the middle of the night to march, we were aroused the following morning at one o'clock, by the effectual but not very agreeable mode, of pulling down the tents at the sound of a bugle, without the ceremony of asking those within whether they were prepared for a public appearance. It was still bright moonlight when we _fell in_, and so bitterly cold that our half-frozen fingers and toes had hardly recovered their natural warmth when we halted for breakfast, after a five-miles walk in rear of the snail-paced waggons. After two or three hours' grazing, the oxen were inspanned, and our march continued for fifteen miles through dense bush; the laborious track ankle deep in soft sand, and so narrow in places that the waggons could barely brush through, the men being obliged to march in file. The sun was by this time intensely hot, and we were without a drop of water to moisten our lips, which were swollen and blistered by the heat. Towards noon we came to a "poort," or natural hollow between high banks covered with aloe and dwarf euphorbia, the sand thickly incrusted with salt. The reflected heat of the sun was intolerable; not a breath of air was stirring; all around was still as death, and the atmosphere so stifling that many of the men were on the point of fainting, though a few hours before benumbed with cold. Shortly we came to a muddy stagnant pool, literally hot from the noontide sun: but so great were the sufferings of the troops, that they rushed almost into it, throwing themselves down by sections on the miry banks, and greedily drinking the fetid green water.