Having spent some time in the country of the Hoozwanas, he bent his course towards his camp on the Gariep, his gallant hosts serving him as guides across the mountains. In the course of the journey one of the oxen threw from off its back the box of toys and cutlery, which, making a frightful clatter, terrified the animal, which ran off roaring in a furious manner. Le Vaillant, in endeavouring to force it back, found himself engaged in a dangerous adventure; for, instead of returning towards his companions, it rushed impetuously at the horse, which, springing suddenly aside, threw his rider and took to flight. The ox now rushed with stooping head at the traveller, who, having fortunately fallen with his musket in his hand, pointed his piece, and carefully levelling it at his enemy, fired, and shot him dead upon the spot. This accident seemed to be merely the forerunner of that which happened immediately after his arrival at the camp. He had crossed the Gariep with his tents and baggage; but the oxen, never having seen so broad a stream, could by no means whatever be induced to attempt the passage. They resisted all the efforts of their drivers, and even their very blows seemed to render them more stubborn. It was therefore determined to take them farther up the stream, and renew their endeavours next morning. The herdsmen, however, rendered heedless or confident by the vicinity of the camp, fell asleep, and allowed their fires to die away. At this moment the Bushmen, who had been lying in wait for them, stole quietly into the circle, and, driving off the oxen, escaped, and before the break of day were already far on their way towards their secret haunts.