Indeed, that night von Hofe made application for a pair of the spare moccasins. The dry, irritating dust made no entrance through the thick moosehide, and although the moccasins were undeniably hot, they were much better than hunting-boots. He freely admitted that in no instance had Schoverling's prophecies and ideas fallen down, and thereafter wore his moccasins until the end of the trip. The dry, brown grass of those plains was almost hidden by the dust, but when their fodder gave out, on the fifth day, the oxen seemed to take it willingly enough. Day after day the march kept up without intermission, and fortunately the six-oxen suffered no loss. They were used to such treks, and the unremitting care of the boys kept them in good shape. On the seventh day the supply of meat, large as it had been, began to show signs of giving out. The Masai had accepted the smoked meat willingly enough, but neither the explorer nor the boys had counted on their enormous appetites. As it would not do to halt the march, the wagon was left in charge of von Hofe, while the General, the boys, and the three gun-bearers cantered out after whatever game they could find. So far the horses had stood the strain well, being seasoned, wiry little beasts. Schoverling rode between the boys. "I didn't want to tell the doctor," he volunteered in a low tone, when they were a good half-mile from the wagon, "and don't let on before the Indians; but we're going to be in bad unless we get across pretty soon. There are only two casks of water left. I'm afraid the Masai have been tapping them at night." "Jumping sandhills!" exclaimed Charlie, staring in dismay. "Why, we have to use at least half a cask a day, only giving the horses and cattle a few swallows, and us too! I s'pose we'll cut out the cattle?" "Have to," nodded the explorer. "I hate to do it, but we can't return now. I'd like to take a gun-butt to those Masai!" "You can't blame them," put in Jack. "They've got the hardest end to bear up, Gen'ral. We've only allowed them about a pint a day each, same as us, when they've been hiking steady. It's hard lines on them, take it from me." "We can't help that, Jack," Schoverling returned. "There's no use punishing them, of course, for they may be valuable later on. But when you're on watch, just take a look under the wagon now and then. If you find anyone at the water-casks, take the cattle-whip to him. That water means life to all of us--and _we come first_!"