On The Top Of
The Banks Above The Wells Was A Beaten Corroboree Path, Where The Denizens
Of The Desert Have Often Held Their Feasts And Dances.
Some grass-trees
grew in the vicinity of this spring to a height of over twenty
feet.
. . ."
A charming spot indeed! but we found it to be hardly so cheerful as this
description would lead one to expect. For at first sight the Spring was
dry. The pool of water was now a dry clay-pan; the numerous native wells
were there, but all were dry. The prospect was sufficiently gloomy, for
our water was all but done, and poor Tommy, the pony, in spite of an
allowance of a billy-full per night, was in a very bad way, for we had
travelled nearly one hundred miles from the last water, and if this was
dry we knew no other that we could reach. However, we were not going to
cry before we were hurt and set to work to dig out the soak, and in a
short time were rewarded by the sight of water trickling in on all sides,
and, by roughly timbering the sides, soon had a most serviceable well - a
state of affairs greatly appreciated by Tommy and the camels. This spring
or soakage, whichever it may be, is in black sand, though the sand outside
the little basin is yellowish white. From what I have heard and read of
them it must be something of the nature of what are called "black soil
springs." Giles was right in his description of its remarkable
surroundings - unless we had marched right into the oasis, we should
perhaps have missed it altogether, for it was unlikely that Lindsay's
camel tracks would be visible except where sheltered from the wind by the
trees; and our only instruments for navigation were a prismatic and pocket
compass, and a watch for rating our travel.
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