and will again perform, their horrid rites of human butchery, and that the drippings of the pellucid fountains from the rocky basins above have been echoed and re-echoed by the dripping fountains of human gore from the veins and arteries of their bound and helpless victims.  Though the day was hot, the shade and the water were cool, and we could indulge in a most luxurious bath.  The largest basin was not deep, but the water was running in and out of it, over the rocks, with considerable force.  We searched about to discover by its sound from whence it came, and found on the left-hand side a crevice of white quartz-like stone, where the water came down from the upper rocks, and ran away partly into the basins and partly into rushes, under our feet.  On the sloping face of the white rock, and where the water ran down, was a small indent or smooth chip exactly the size of a person’s mouth, so that we instinctively put our lips to it, and drank of the pure and gushing element.  I firmly believe this chip out of the rock has been formed by successive generations of the native population, for ages placing their mouths to and drinking at this spot; but whether in connection with any sacrificial ceremonies or no, deponent knoweth, and sayeth not.  The poet Spenser, more than three hundred years ago, must have visited this spot—­at least, in imagination, for see how he describes it:—­

   “And fast beside there trickled softly down,
    A gentle stream, whose murmuring waves did play
    Amongst the broken stones, and made a sowne,
    To lull him fast asleep, who by it lay: 
    The weary traveller wandering that way
    Therein might often quench his thirsty heat,
    And then by it, his weary limbs display;
    (Whiles creeping slumber made him to forget
    His former pain), and wash away his toilsome sweet.”

(Illustration:  Gill’s pinnacle.)

There is very poor grazing ground round this water.  It is only valuable as a wayside inn, or out.  I called the singular feature which points out this water to the wanderer in these western wilds, Gill’s Pinnacle, after my brother-in-law, and the water, Gordon’s Springs, after his son.  In the middle of the night, rumblings of thunder were heard, and lightnings illuminated the glen.  When we were starting on the following morning, some aborigines made their appearance, and vented their delight at our appearance here by the emission of several howls, yells, gesticulations, and indecent actions, and, to hem us in with a circle of fire, to frighten us out, or roast us to death, they set fire to the triodia all round.  We rode through the flames, and away.

CHAPTER 2.9.  FROM 12TH MARCH TO 19TH APRIL, 1874.

The Rebecca. 
The Petermann range. 
Extraordinary place. 
The Docker. 
Livingstone’s Pass. 
A park. 
Wall-like hills. 
The Ruined Rampart.