Leaving The Rest To Dig Out The Hole On The Chance Of
Getting A Drop, Though It Was Evident That The Natives Had Cleaned It Out
Nearly To The Bottom, Warri And I Started Off To Follow The Tracks Yet
Further.
Taking a handful of dried peaches to chew, which give a little
moisture, for we were very dry, we walked until darkness overtook us.
The
tracks (a man, two women, and a child) led us back towards the West;
we could see their camps, one close to the namma-hole, another four miles
away, with crushed seed lying about, and a few roots pulled up. Warri
said they were "tired fella" from the way they walked. All this made
us doubtful if they knew where the next water was. In any case we could
make no further search that night, and made our best way back through
the scrub, to the camp.
Godfrey had unsuccessfully explored the neighbouring hills, while Breaden
and Charlie cleaned out the rockhole with like result. A very hot, cloudy
night did not make things any more pleasant; we were all a bit done, and
poor Charlie was seized with a violent and painful vomiting - a not unusual
accompaniment to want of food and water. It seemed useless to follow the
tracks any more, since they led us in exactly the wrong direction; and as
we loaded the camels in the morning two turkeys (bustards) flew over us
to the North-East. We would have given something to have their knowledge!
We started, therefore, in this direction, and soon came on other tracks,
which after some time we concluded were only those of natives who had
been hunting from the rock-hole before the water was finished.
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