Old Jimmy Was Quite Pleased To Find Himself Again In Country Which He Knew Something About.

We could again see the summit of Mount Finke.

The only water I knew of in this wretched country being at Wynbring, I determined to follow my old route. On the 16th we passed a place where we had formerly seen a small portion of bare rock, and now, in consequence of the late sprinkling showers on the 9th and 10th, there were a few thimblefuls of water on it. This set Jimmy into a state of excitement; he gesticulated and talked to Tommy in their language at a great rate, and Tommy said, "Ah, if you found water here, when you come before, Chester and Formby wouldn't die." "Well," I said, "Tommy, I don't see much water here to keep anything alive, even if it had been here then." He only sapiently shook his head and said, "But if you got plenty water then that's all right." I found Tommy's arguments were exactly similar to those of all other black boys I have known, exceedingly comical, but all to their own way of thinking.

Soon after this, I was riding in advance along the old track, when old Jimmy came running up behind my camel in a most excited state, and said, "Hi, master, me find 'im, big one watta, plenty watta, mucka (not) pickaninny (little); this way, watta go this way," pointing to a place on our left. I waited until the caravan appeared through the scrub, then old Jimmy led us to the spot he had found.

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