On May 22nd we continued our journey, marching South over
irregular sandhills, forcing our way through scrubs, until, on the evening
of the 23rd, we were in the latitude of the centre of Lake Amadeus, as it
was formerly marked by Giles. I was anxious to see if Tietkens had perhaps
passed between two lakes, leaving an unnoticed lake on his left. We now
altered our course to the West, sighting a large bare hill some forty
miles distant, which I take to be Mount Skene (Giles). This hill is close
to the high ranges, the Petermann and others, and it would have
simplified our journey to have turned to them, where good waters are
known to exist, but I desired to see what secrets unknown country might
hold, even though it might be only sandhills.
This proved to be the case, and during the next six days we crossed the
most barren wilderness it had been our lot to see, not a bite of food for
camels or horses, who, poor brutes, turned in despair to the spinifex and
munched its prickly spines - not a living thing, no sign of life, except
on two occasions. The first when, at the beginning of the stage, we
captured a young gin, whom I soon released for several reasons, not the
least important of which, was that Warri was inclined to fall a victim to
her charms, for she was by no means ill-looking. The second living thing
we saw was a snake, which we killed; how it came to inhabit so dry a
region I cannot say. Now that our course was Westerly, we had expected to
run between the ridges, but no such luck attended us. True, we marched
between the SAND-ridges, but every now and again a ridge of ROCK running
exactly across our course had to be negotiated. Yet further, and
sandhills thrown up in any irregular order impeded us, then loose sand;
everywhere spinifex, without even its accustomed top-growth, drought, and
desolation! Native tracks were very scarce, even old ones; some of these
we followed, only to find DRY rock-holes and wells at the end of them.
We were all walking again now, ploughing our way through the sand, men
and camels alike exhausted, and the poor ponies bringing up the rear, the
tail-end of a miserable caravan. And they, following behind, were a
useless burden; we could not ride them, and yet for their sakes our
supply of water became less and less; we denied ourselves beef (which
meant at least a bucketful of water to boil out the salt) to keep them
alive; poor faithful things, none but curs could desert them while life
to move was left in their bodies. On the night of the 29th, for our own
safety, I could allow them no water, for so great had been the drain that
our tanks had but a few gallons left.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 223 of 244
Words from 115939 to 116440
of 127189
