Now only Steve discovers that he is pouring wet; the sweat is simply running from him. He is trembling all over from excitement; his mouth is parched. He steps down, quiets the horses, gets a drink from the water canteen, and wipes the sweat from his eyes and is himself again. He is soon joined by his companions, leading the two other horses. They had been standing looking on as if paralysed. They expected to see the cart sink into ruins every moment, and their admiration was unbounded when they saw him guide the vehicle over obstacle after obstacle, safe and sound. When they came up to him, they generously congratulated him, in unmeasured terms, for his pluck and skill; and, to the end of their trip, when they came to dangerous places (which was often enough), they made him take the reins, to the disgust of his cousin. Well now, at last they could go to the house they had seen at a distance. It is true it is dark and no road visible, but the light still shone and invited them on; and after such a _drift_ crossed, surely they can find their way across the level plain, even though it be dark. Steve led the way on foot, and soon they found themselves in front of the house they had seen. But their hopes appeared dashed to the ground again. ‘Seems to me this is a poor show, and it strikes me we will have to camp outside after all.’ They had come to the poorest of poor houses. A low, small mud house. It must be one of the poorest farmers in the district. The barking of the dogs had brought the inmates out of the house by this time. The following dialogue took place. ‘Good evening, Oom.’ (Steve spoke). ‘Good evening, Neef.’ (Nephew). ‘Who lives here, Oom.’ ‘I do!’ ‘May I ask Oom’s name?’ ‘Certainly, young man; my name is Zarl Venter.’ ‘Will Oom have a shelter for us to-night.’ ‘Young friend, I have never turned a stranger away from my door, even though I am poor; and hope I never will. If you are satisfied with the best we have, which is not much, you are welcome.’ ‘Thank you, Oom; we have food, but we should like a shelter as it looks like rain, and a little food and shelter for our horses.’ ‘Food and shelter for yourselves, I have already told you you are welcome to the best we have. As to your horses, I have no stable, but those big trees are as good as any stable if it does not rain very much. As to forage, my son has a little; you must ask him.’ ‘We will pay him for it, uncle.’ ‘Speak to him yourselves.’ The horses were soon tied up and fed, and our young men found themselves in a low room, barely furnished, with a few chairs and a table. Supper was on the table, and consisted of coffee and bread _ad lib_, nothing more.