Starting again the ensuing evening, and continuing their journey during the following day, they arrived early on the morning of the 15th at the Seruli River, where a water-pit, sunk in the dry sandy bed of the river, was found for watering the oxen. Here were a party of natives, living in the bush, hunting. They were said to be Bushmen. One of their number, who came to the waggon the following day, looked very striking--a leopard-skin thrown gracefully over his well-formed person, and a necklace of large lavender beads round his neck. Four days were spent by the brothers at the Seruli, whence they proceeded on their journey on the evening of the 19th, making a halt about midnight. From this point Frank Oates’s Journal takes up the story for the next few days--till their arrival at the Shashe on the 24th--as follows:-- “_August 20th._--Have coffee, and hear the monotonous call of the night-hawk, as we rest and let the cattle feed. W. called my attention yesterday, at close of day, to another (a clucking) note, which he says proceeds from the hornbill. We have been living, whilst at the Seruli, on ostrich eggs. Fried with a little meal is the best way we have had them, or made into a pudding with maizena. They are strong, unless nicely cooked. Started again at 2.30 A.M., and trekked for three hours. Horned moon and bright morning star in the east; horizon dark against the sky, already glowing with the pale orange of approaching morning, fading into the dark violet of the upper firmament. Notes of birds are heard. What a loss not to be able to appreciate beautiful things, as must be the case with our men, and how much less they affect me even than they used to do, when I seemed to find the world more full of hope and high ends to be attained than it looks now.