Upon rejoining the wagons a halt was made, Gholab Singh taking charge of the gazelles. After a good dinner the four white men rode on ahead, following the rude track across the veldt, and the wagons were speedily out of sight. "This looks a whole lot like the Alberta and Montana country," declared Charlie as they rode along. "With those hills off in the distance, and the dry gullies fringed with trees, a fellow might think he was just pushing across our own range land. Wouldn't this be a swell cow country, Jack?" "Looks like it," rejoined the Cree. "Look at those ostriches! Isn't that a ranch, up there among those buttes?" By the aid of their glasses they could see a small ranch-house, a good four miles away, but clear-cut and distinct in the rarefied atmosphere of the plateau. White dots were scattered near by, which Schoverling declared were sheep. "They must suffer to some extent from wild animals," he said, "but on the whole the sheep ranges up here are in fine shape. It's a great little old country, boys. If I could make up my mind to settle down I'd like to take up a few thousand acres back near the hills and try irrigation." "It is too dry," nodded the doctor wisely. "Some day they will irrigate all this. Then the animals will be gone, all gone." "What of it?" said Jack slyly. "Folks will come just the same to see the masterpieces made by the great von Hofe! The sooner the game goes, the more valuable you will be." "Ach, no!" Von Hofe shook his head sadly. "It is not nice to see the fine animals be killed off. Look at South Africa--all the game is gone, all the Zulu kingdoms are gone, and instead there is railroads and mines and factories. It is not nice." "Well, that's the advance of civilization," declared Schoverling. "It was the same in Ohio and Missouri and Montana--everywhere. And yet there are always new fields to conquer." "As long as the H. B. C. ran things," flashed up Jack, with the true Indian prejudice, "it was all right in Canada. The Company took care of the game first rate. But now everybody takes a whack at trapping--and where's the beaver gone?" "True enough," sighed the explorer. "But the hunter must give place to the settler, Jack." A spirited argument ensued, to which Charlie and von Hofe listened amusedly. In the end Jack had to confess that Schoverling was right, however. Towards evening they got into more rolling country, while to the northeast towered up the hills about Mount Kenia, whose snowy summit had been long visible, although nearly a hundred miles away. Just before sunset they cantered up to Botha's ranch. The hospitable Boer did not need the letter from Piet Andrus to welcome them, and the boys were keenly interested in his family. This consisted of his wife, two stalwart, bearded sons, and their own families--chubby little Dutch people who clambered over everyone, once their shyness had been removed. Von Hofe was soon a prime favorite with them.