Most of the men stood with their backs to the flames, gazing
vacantly at the horses, the trees, or the stars. For a while not
a word was said. Means threw another log on the fire and then
squatted on his heels and silently watched the flames catch the
bark and flare up brightly. As the heat increased, Kearton took a
step farther away and stood again. Every one knew that the Sotik
had failed us and that it was time for us to go, and so
eventually when the Colonel spoke he only voiced the general
conclusion.
"We've got to go back," he said, speaking straight in front of
him at the nearest of the sleepy horses. "We've got to go
to-morrow and have a try from the water hole at the Rugged Rocks
where we saw the two lions on the way out here. We may find one
there and we may not. If we don't, we've got to go on to Nairobi
and start all over again--provided the rains don't begin."
Accordingly, through the long hot days the safari plodded back
over the way we had come from the Soda Swamp to Agate's, from
Agate's to the Honeybird River, and then on once more to the Last
Water. The cameras were stowed away on the wagons, the ropes
remained coiled on the saddles, for there was no probability of
our finding lions on the way.
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