The fatigue of the journey, united with a scarcity of water, began at length to cause the luxuries of the camp and the neighbourhood of the Great Fish River to be regretted; but although Le Vaillant himself evidently shared to a certain degree in these regrets, he was still unwilling to relinquish his enterprise before he caught a single glimpse of the Kaffers. At length a small party was discovered, whose dread of the whites equalled at least the terror with which they themselves inspired the pusillanimous Hottentots. From these men Le Vaillant learned that the greater part of the nation had retreated far into the interior, and as his imagination, at this time, seems to have exaggerated every difficulty and danger, for he was weary of the journey, he gladly seized upon the first excuse for relinquishing his enterprise, and returned with all possible celerity to his camp. All his thoughts and wishes now pointed towards the Cape. Narina and the friendly Gonaquas in vain exerted their influence. The desert had lost its charms. For the moment he was weary of travelling. However, not to encounter in vain the fatigue of a long journey, he formed the design of verging a little to the north of his former route, through the immense solitudes of the Sneuw Bergen. The caravan, therefore, quitted the vicinity of the sea, and proceeded towards the west through forests of mimosa-trees, which were then in full flower, and imparted all the charms of summer to the landscape. The extreme silence of the nights during this part of the journey was sublime. All the functions of life seemed for the time to be suspended; except that, at intervals, the roaring of the lion resounded through the forests, startling the echoes, and according to the interpretation of the fancy, hushing the whole scene with terror.