There On The Ridge, His
Bones Will Lie For Many A Long Day.
Brave Tommy, whose rough and unkempt
exterior covered a heart that any warhorse might have envied, had covered
135
Miles, without feed worth mentioning, and with only eleven gallons of
water during that distance, a stage of nearly seven days' duration of very
hard travelling indeed, with the weather pretty sultry, though the nights
were cool. His death, however, was in favour of our water supply, which
was not too abundant. So much had been lost by the bags knocking about on
the saddle, by their own pressure against the side of the saddle, and by
evaporation, that we had to content ourselves with a quart-potful between
us morning and evening - by no means a handsome allowance.
On the 29th, after travelling eight hours through scrubs, we were just
about to camp when the shrill "coo-oo" of a black-fellow met our ears; and
on looking round we were startled to see some half-dozen natives gazing at
us. Jenny chose at that moment to give forth the howl that only cow-camels
can produce; this was too great a shock for the blacks, who stampeded
pell-mell, leaving their spears and throwing-sticks behind them. We gave
chase, and, after a spirited run, Luck managed to stop a man. A
stark-naked savage this, and devoid of all adornment excepting a
waist-belt of plaited grass and a "sporran" of similar material. He was in
great dread of the camels and not too sure of us.
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