We soon settled down to the routine of our ox-wagon life, and very pleasant we found it. When the boys would outspan and get things in readiness for meals, our hunger from the open-air life would be so great that we could scarcely wait while they made the fire for coffee. Like all South African travellers, we consumed a prodigious quantity of coffee. Besides drinking it at every meal, it would be prepared several times during the day, as we wanted it. The Dutch people drink it morning, noon, and night, keeping it always on the fire for their Dutch friends who pass near them. The manner in which coffee is made in the veldt is: first to boil the water in the kettle, then pour it on the coffee ready in another kettle; it is then passed back and forth a few times and the coffee is made; a few drops of cold water poured into the kettle will soon settle the grounds. We found the Dutch coffee very good. Our meals consisted of buck meat, cooked in all sorts of ways, and sometimes a pair of doves or partridges; we had our canned goods to fall back upon, and we had also the vegetables of the country, which were carried in the wagon. We lived most contentedly. One day we suffered greatly from want of water. We travelled many hours, hoping to find a stream and fill the water-cans. A Kafir will find a spring of water in places where a white man would never think of looking for it, but that day there was no water to be found, and we positively suffered from thirst. The sun beat down on us all fiercer than ever, it seemed, and it was not till late in the afternoon that we came to a small muddy stream. The mud did not frighten us, and we hurried the boys into making the coffee. One of our boys had been in the jail at Smithfield, for some petty misdemeanour, and was discharged in order that he might come with our staff. He was a raw Kafir about fourteen years of age, with a comical, laughing face, which peered up at us oddly as he sat on the footboard of the wagon. He had a funny little squeaking voice which at times would play him tricks; when apparently about to come forth in a manly roar, it would suddenly result in a shrill, piping sound, which would throw all the servants into fits of laughter. He used to perch himself surreptitiously on the disselboem, against the orders of "the baas," in the cool of the evening, as we jolted along in the moonlight, and croon out in Kafir, awfully out of tune, "Sweet bye and bye," a favourite song of the Sunday-school Kafirs. The missionaries' service with the Kafir, it may be said, is mostly a service of song. We soon became tired of his one tune, and sang it for him correctly; but he evidently considered that our musical education had been neglected, for directly we had finished he started again, singing it in his own way.