An unnatural height; and
another hideous vegetation, which I call sage-bush, obstructs even
more, although it does not pain so much as the irritans. Again, the
ground being hot enough to burn the soles off one's boots, with the
thermometer at something like 180 degrees in the sun, and the choking
from thirst at every movement of the body, is enough to make any one
pause before he foolishly gets himself into such a predicament.
Discretion in such a case is by far the better part of valour - for
valour wasted upon burning sands to no purpose is like love's labour
lost.
Close about in all directions, except north, were broken masses of
hills, and we decided to search among them for a new point of
departure. We re-saddled our horses, and searched those nearest, that
is to say easterly; but no water was found, nor any place that could
hold it for an hour after it fell from the sky. Then we went
north-west, to a bare-looking hill, and others with pines ornamenting
their tops; but after travelling and searching all day, and the horses
doing forty-six miles, we had to camp again without water.
In the night the thermometer went down to 62 degrees. I was so cold
that I had to light a fire to lie down by. All this day was uselessly
lost in various traverses and searchings without reward; and after
travelling forty-two miles, the unfortunate horses had to go again for
the third night without water. We were, however, nearing the depot
again, and reached it, in sixteen miles, early the next morning.
Thankful enough we were to have plenty of water to drink, a bath, and
change of clothes.
CHAPTER 2.6. FROM 23RD DECEMBER, 1873 TO 16TH JANUARY, 1874.
Primitive laundry.
Natives troublesome in our absence.
The ives.
Gibson's estimate of a straight heel.
Christmas day, 1873.
Attacked by natives.
A wild caroo.
Wild grapes from a sandal-wood tree.
More earthquakes.
The moon on the waters.
Another journey northwards.
Retreat to the depot.
More rain at the depot.
Jimmy's escape.
A "canis familiaris".
An innocent lamb.
Sage-bush scrubs.
Groves of oak-trees.
Beautiful green flat.
Crab-hole water.
Bold and abrupt range.
A glittering cascade.
Invisibly bright water.
The murmur in the shell.
A shower bath.
The Alice Falls.
Ascend to the summit.
A strange view.
Gratified at our discoveries.
Return to Fort Mueller.
Digging with a tomahawk.
Storing water.
Wallaby for supper.
Another attack.
Gibson's gardens.
Opossums destructive.
Birds.
Thoughts.
Physical peculiarities of the region.
Haunted.
Depart.
The way we wash our clothes is primitive - it can only be done at a
depot. When we have sufficient water, we simply put them into it, and
leave them until we want to change again, and then do the same with
those we take off; sometimes they sweeten for several days, oftener
much less.
