"Well, I marched steadily from three till close on five o’clock; then I felt so done that I sank down on the ground, and lay in a kind of stupor for some minutes. I had done my best. It seemed to me that I was beat, and that the vultures would soon be picking my bones. Suddenly I pulled myself together and looked at my watch, which was still going. It was now five minutes to five. With the three minutes’ rest I had taken, I was still short of the two hours’ task I had set myself. Somehow a stubborn fit took possession of me. I had said I would walk for two hours. I always had rather a mania for finishing up a task and getting done with it. Feeble as I felt, I determined, in sheer doggedness, to walk another eight minutes. Then I would lie down, and for the rest--well, the worst must come to the worst. So I got up and pulled myself together, and stumbled on. It was a wonderful thing, but my blessed obstinacy saved me. In five minutes I came suddenly on the wagon spoor, going north-east. I could scarcely believe my good luck. I stared at the tracks of the wheels, at the spoor of the good old oxen. Never have I seen anything more beautiful. Then, throwing myself on the sand, I patted the spoor as if it were a friend and a living thing. It seems absurd now, but that is actually what I did. "Well, the rest is soon told. It was now nearly sunset. I walked on till the light went; then I lay down and slept, waiting for the moon to rise. I awoke just as she climbed up from behind the bush, towards twelve o’clock. Somehow I felt wonderfully better. I knew that I should now see home and friends again, which I had begun seriously to doubt all day yesterday. I could hold the spoor all right in the moonlight, and tramped along slowly and wearily, but still steadily, till four o’clock. Then I rested for an hour and a half. Little did I think I was now within a few miles of camp, or I should have fired a rifle shot. As soon as dawn began to come I walked on again, and then, after twenty minutes, looking up, I saw Poeskop and you, dear old pater, galloping up towards me." "Well, my boy," said Mr. Blakeney solemnly, "it was a wonderfully lucky escape. This thirst-land is a terrible country to get lost in, and many a man has died of thirst in it and left his bones. I think your sudden resolution to get up and finish your two hours’ walk was a kind of miracle. I see the hand of God in it, my boy, and we ought to be, as indeed we are, truly thankful for it. I can’t tell you what a load is off my mind. All yesterday and last night I was in an agony of anxiety, wondering what was to become of you." "If you hadn’t taken that sudden resolution to go on for another eight minutes, Tom," said Guy, "should you have ever got up again?" "No, I don’t think I should," returned Tom. "I was so dead beat, and I had practically given up all hope."