CHAPTER 3.2.  FROM 2ND APRIL TO 6TH MAY, 1875.

Leave Wynbring. 
The horses. 
Mountains of sand. 
Mount Finke. 
One horse succumbs. 
Torchlight tracking. 
Trouble with the camels. 
A low mount. 
Dry salt lagoons.
200 miles yet from water. 
Hope. 
Death of Chester. 
The last horse. 
A steede, a steede. 
Ships of the desert. 
Reflections at night. 
Death or Water. 
The Hermit Hill. 
Black shepherds and shepherdesses. 
The Finniss Springs. 
Victims to the bush. 
Footprints on the sands of time. 
Alec Ross. 
Reach Beltana.

On the 2nd April we departed from this friendly depot at Wynbring Rock, taking our three horses, the two camels and the calf.  The morning was as hot as fire; at midday we watered all our animals, and having saddled and packed them, we left the place behind us.  On the two camels we carried as much water as we had vessels to hold it, the quantity being nearly fifty gallons.  The horses were now on more friendly terms with them, so that they could be led by a person on horseback.  Old Jimmy, now no longer a guide, was not permitted to take the lead, but rode behind, to see that nothing fell off the camels’ saddles.  I rode in advance, on my best horse Chester, a fine, well-set chestnut cob, a horse I was very fond of, as he had proved himself so good.  Nicholls rode a strong young grey horse called Formby; he also had proved himself to my satisfaction to be a good one.  Jimmy was mounted on an old black horse, that was a fine ambler, the one that bolted away with the load of water the first night we started from Youldeh.  He had not stood the journey from Youldeh at all well; the other two were quite fresh and hearty when we left Wynbring.

By the evening of the 2nd we had made only twenty-two miles.  We found the country terrific; the ground rose into sandhills so steep and high, that all our animals were in a perfect lather of sweat.  The camels could hardly be got along at all.  At night, where we were compelled by darkness to encamp, there was nothing for the horses to eat, so the poor brutes had to be tied up, lest they should ramble back to Wynbring.  There was plenty of food for the camels, as they could eat the leaves of some of the bushes, but they were too sulky to eat because they were tied up.  The bull continually bit his nose-rope through, and made several attempts to get away, the calf always going with him, leaving his mother:  this made her frantic to get away too.  The horses got frightened, and were snorting and jumping about, trying to break loose all night.  The spot we were in was a hollow, between two high sandhills, and not a breath of air relieved us from the oppression of the atmosphere.  Peter Nicholls and I were in a state of thirst and perspiration the whole night, running about after the camels and keeping the horses from breaking away.