I moved on over the plateau at an easy trot, full of thoughts of Hilda.
What could be the step she expected Sebastian to take next? She did not
know, herself, she had told me; there, her faculty failed her. But SOME
step he WOULD take; and till he took it she must rest and be watchful.
I passed the great tree that stands up like an obelisk in the midst of
the plain beyond the deserted Matabele village. I passed the low clumps
of dry karroo-bushes by the rocky kopje. I passed the fork of the
rubbly roads where I had parted from Hilda. At last, I reached the long,
rolling ridge which looks down upon Klaas's, and could see in the slant
sunlight the mud farmhouse and the corrugated iron roof where the oxen
were stabled.
The place looked more deserted, more dead-alive than ever. Not a black
boy moved in it. Even the cattle and Kaffir sheep were nowhere to
be seen.... But then it was always quiet; and perhaps I noticed the
obtrusive air of solitude and sleepiness even more than usual, because I
had just returned from Salisbury. All things are comparative. After the
lost loneliness of Klaas's farm, even brand-new Salisbury seemed busy
and bustling.
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