That is to say, the small
black-and-tan English terrier, though I regret to say he is decidedly
not, of the breed of that Billy indeed, who used to kill rats for a
bet; I forget how many one morning he ate, but you'll find it in
sporting books yet. It was very late when we reached our old bough
gunyah camp; there was no water. I intended going up farther, but,
being behind, Mr. Tietkens and Jimmy had began to unload, and some of
the horses were hobbled out when I arrived; Gibson was still behind.
For the second time I have been compelled to retreat to this range;
shall I ever get away from it? When we left the rock, the thermometer
indicated 110 degrees in the shade.
Next morning I was a little better, but Gibson was very ill - indeed I
thought he was going to die, and would he had died quietly there. Mr.
Tietkens and I walked up the creek to look for the horses. We found
and took about half of them to the surface water up in the narrow
glen. When we arrived, there was plenty of water running merrily along
the creek channel, and there were several nice ponds full, but when we
brought the second lot to the place an hour and a half afterwards, the
stream had ceased to flow, and the nice ponds just mentioned were all
but empty and dry. This completely staggered me to find the drainage
cease so suddenly. The day was very hot, 110 degrees, when we returned
to camp.
I was in a state of bewilderment at the thought of the water having so
quickly disappeared, and I was wondering where I should have to
retreat to next, as it appeared that in a day or two there would
literally be no water at all. I felt ill again from my morning's walk,
and lay down in the 110 degrees of shade, afforded by the bough gunyah
which Gibson had formerly made.
I had scarcely settled myself on my rug when a most pronounced shock
of earthquake occurred, the volcanic wave, which caused a sound like
thunder, passing along from west to east right under us, shook the
ground and the gunyah so violently as to make me jump up as though
nothing was the matter with me. As the wave passed on, we heard up in
the glen to the east of us great concussions, and the sounds of
smashing and falling rocks hurled from their native eminences rumbling
and crashing into the glen below. The atmosphere was very still
to-day, and the sky clear except to the deceitful west.
Gibson is still so ill that we did not move the camp. I was in a great
state of anxiety about the water supply, and Tietkens and I walked
first after the horses, and then took them up to the glen, where I was
enchanted to behold the stream again in full flow, and the sheets of
surface water as large, and as fine as when we first saw them
yesterday.
