I was, however, determined to make one more attempt. Packing two horses with water, I intended to carry it out to the creek, which is forty miles from here. At that point I would water one horse, hang the remainder of the water in a tree, and follow the creek channel to see what became of it. I took Gibson and Jimmy, Mr. Tietkens remaining at the camp. On arriving at the junction of the larger creek, we followed down the channel and in five miles, to my great surprise, though the traveller in these regions should be surprised at nothing, we completely ran the creek out, as it simply ended among triodia, sandhills, and scrubby mulga flats. I was greatly disappointed at this turn of affairs, as I had thought from its size it would at least have led me to some water, and to the discovery of some new geographical features. Except where we struck it, the country had all been burnt, and we had to return to that spot to get grass to camp at. Water existed only in the bags which we carried with us. I gave the horse I intend riding to-morrow a couple of buckets of water. I suppose he would have drank a dozen—the others got none. The three of us encamped together here.
CHAPTER 2.5. FROM 9TH NOVEMBER TO 23RD DECEMBER, 1873.
Alone.
Native signs.
A stinking pit.
Ninety miles from water.
Elder’s Creek.
Hughes’s Creek.
The Colonel’s range.
Rampart-like range.
Hills to the north-east.
Jamieson’s range.
Return to Fort Mueller.
Rain.
Start for the Shoeing Camp once more.
Lightning Rock.
Nothing like leather.
Pharaoh’s inflictions.
Photophobists.
Hot weather.
Fever and philosophy.
Tietkens’s tank.
Gibson taken ill.
Mysterious disappearance of water.