The grass herbage was now succeeded by karroo plains, covered with a kind of dwarf heath which the cattle and horses had to put up with. We crossed the Zwart Kei, at Stoffel Venter's, a Dutch Boer's farm, lonely enough to satisfy any hermit; the sound of the bagpipes brought out a family of lazy-looking Dutchmen, with pipes in their mouths and hands in their breeches pockets, with one or two fat women, who waddled out and bumped down on the bench outside the door, followed by a knot of bare-legged dirty children, looking as phlegmatic as their seniors. For miles along the vast plain, which was interspersed with isolated mountains and rocky hills, we beheld in the distance the lofty and singular mountain, called "Twa Taffel Berg," with its two table-topped summits. After seventeen miles we crossed the Honey Klip River, running between high jungley banks, and halted for the night; but before the waggon-train with our tents could get up, a thunder storm, which for some time had been brewing in dark indigo clouds, burst over our heads, and we were soaked to the skin by a tremendous down pour of rain, which completely flooded the ground. Since our departure from Elands Post, where we took leave of trees and shrubs, we had been entirely dependent for fuel on the dry dung of cattle and wild game, scattered over the plains; following in the rear of the other Column, which left but small gleanings behind it, our men had to go far a-field, often wandering, after a long day's march, a mile or two from the camp to get sufficient to boil their coffee. Indeed, so scarce and valuable was this commodity, that many used their pockets and haversacs as receptacles for such portions as they were lucky enough to pick up by the way.