Observing, however, that the
long flights of aquatic birds kept flying from our left, we concluded
that they were advancing from their feeding-grounds on shore
to pass the day in the lake, and accordingly headed the boat
towards the quarter whence they came, and began to paddle. Before
long, however, a stiffish breeze sprang up, blowing directly
in the direction we wanted, so we improvized a sail with a blanket
and the pole, which took us along merrily. This done, we devoured
the remnants of our biltong, washed down with the sweet lake
water, and then lit our pipes and awaited whatever might turn up.
When we had been sailing for an hour, Good, who was searching
the horizon with the spy-glass, suddenly announced joyfully that
he saw land, and pointed out that, from the change in the colour
of the water, he thought we must be approaching the mouth of
a river. In another minute we perceived a great golden dome,
not unlike that of St Paul's, piercing the morning mists, and
while we were wondering what in the world it could be, Good reported
another and still more important discovery, namely, that a small
sailing-boat was advancing towards us. This bit of news, which
we were very shortly able to verify with our own eyes, threw
us into a considerable flutter.
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