Schoverling had provided himself with government maps showing the villages, and the best route across the plateau and through the hills had been traced out for him. On second thought, however, he sent back for Gholab Singh, who knew most of the native dialects from his years of residence in the country, and left the camp in charge of Guru instead. At noon they struck into the caravan track from the north, and stopped at each village in passing, where Gholab made inquiries. They found that there was no lack of chickens, and wild fowl might be had on every hand for the shooting. As for vegetables, every village had its mealie patch, yams, bananas, a beet-like plant, and other greens which none of the three recognized, but which Gholab assured them were excellent eating. Besides, there were quantities of fish in the streams. On the whole, Charlie was amazed at the readiness with which food could be had; while to Jack, used to a hard-earned rabbit or trap-line in the snows, the quantity of game was astounding. "I don't think we'll have any trouble living off the land," chuckled the General that night. They had camped beside a mountain stream. In place of tents, their hand axes lopped off a brush shelter in short order. A trout-like fish was plentiful in the stream, and half a dozen of these were soon broiling. These, with fried bananas and tea, made a generous meal. "Can't see the sense o' fetching them traps," grunted Jack. "Better leave 'em behind when we start. What good are they?" "I don't know, Jack. Can't tell what we'll strike, though." "Where does this caravan route go to?" asked Charlie. "This looks as if it was deserted." "Oh, a caravan of camels and horses comes down about once a year from the lakes up north, toward the Abyssinian border. We only follow it over the plateau with the wagons." There was no doubt that the route, which existed on the map only, was practicable for the light wagons. The next day they were among the hills, in high altitudes, and here the game almost vanished for the next two days. The villages of the natives were scattered, but those that they found had more cultivated land near by than the others, which made up for the scarcity of game. The wagons were much under-loaded, and were taken more to bring back what might be found north of the Lorian swamp than for anything else. "Seems to me," said Charlie on the third day, as he thawed out a gourd full of water that had frozen overnight, "that we could load up the wagons with green stuff when we go through here. That last village we came through was plumb chuck full o' pumpkins." "Melons, you mean," laughed Jack. "I dug into one. There was some squash, though, in the back fields. How far we going, General?" Schoverling consulted his pocket-map and compass before replying. "We ought to be near the station of the commissioner of the district now. If we don't strike it by night we may as well go back. I've found out what we came for."