(Illustration:  In Queen Victoria’s desert.)

We had now travelled 242 miles from the little dam, and I thought it advisable here to give our lion-hearted camels a day’s respite, and to apportion out to them the water that some of them had carried for that purpose.  By the time we reached this distance from the last water, although no one had openly uttered the word retreat, all knowing it would be useless, still I was not unassailed by croakings of some of the ravens of the party, who advised me, for the sake of saving our own and some of the camels’ lives, to sacrifice a certain number of the worst, and not give these unfortunates any water at all.  But I represented that it would be cruel, wrong, and unjust to pursue such a course, and yet expect these neglected ones still to travel on with us; for even in their dejected state some, or even all, might actually go as far without water as the others would go with; and as for turning them adrift, or shooting them in a mob—­which was also mooted—­so long as they could travel, that was out of the question.  So I declined all counsel, and declared it should be a case of all sink or all swim.  In the middle of the thirteenth day, during which we rested for the purpose, the water was fairly divided among the camels; the quantity given to each was only a little over four gallons—­about equivalent to four thimblesful to a man.  There were eighteen grown camels and one calf, Youldeh, the quantity given was about eighty gallons.  To give away this quantity of water in such a region was like parting with our blood; but it was the creatures’ right, and carried expressly for them; and with the renewed vigour which even that small quantity imparted to them, our own lives seemed to obtain a new lease.  Unfortunately, the old cow which calved at Youldeh, and whose she-calf is the prettiest and nicest little pet in the world, has begun to fail in her milk, and I am afraid the young animal will be unable to hold out to the end of this desert, if indeed it has an end this side of Perth.  The position of this dry basin is in latitude 30 degrees 7’ 3”, and longitude 124 degrees 41’ 2”.  Since reaching the 125th meridian, my course had been 5 degrees more southerly, and on departing from this wretched basin on the 22nd of September, with animals greatly refreshed and carrying much lighter loads, we immediately entered dense scrubs, composed as usual of mallee, with its friend the spinifex, black oaks, and numerous gigantic mallee-like gum-trees.  It seemed that distance, which lends enchantment to the view, was the only chance for our lives; distance, distance, unknown distance seemed to be our only goal.  The country rose immediately from this depression into high and rolling hills of sand, and here I was surprised to find that a number of the melancholy cypress pines ornamented both the sandy hills and the spinifex depressions through and over which we went.  Here, indeed, some few occasional signs