Chapter VIII: Part II: Under the Southern Cross (4)

We were reaching an extreme northerly latitude, with the great central deserts behind us, and though we had been bitterly disappointed with the non-auriferous country crossed, yet the thought of emerging safely from the "Never Never" land for the time took the place of vain regrets and cheered us on to fresh endeavour. We had found no El Dorado in the blistering salt plains; the Land of Promise had eluded us completely--if such a land existed. Our time, it is true, had been more taken up in searching for water than prospecting for gold; still, we took occasion to analyse samples of every probable gold-bearing patch encountered, but always with insignificant result.

One morning we found ourselves in the unenviable position of having but a few pints of water left in the canvas bags, and as we had located no soak for over a week, our immediate future seemed gloomy indeed. The camels were for the first time showing signs of collapse; and little wonder; they had gone eight days without a drink, and their load, since the last of the horses had succumbed, had been unduly heavy.

"We've got to find water to-day, boys," I said, "or something serious is bound to happen."

Mac chuckled dryly. "The deil aye tak's care o' his ain," he announced with an effort at pleasantry; and Stewart cackled harshly in agreement.

Soon after breakfast, Phil, in surveying the landscape by the aid of his field-glasses--a very cherished possession--detected in the distance a long, curling column of smoke, sure evidence of the aborigines' presence, and at once our hearts became lighter and our waning strength renewed. "There must be moisture of some sort about," I said to Phil, as we staggered along together in the wake of the camels. "The country is changing for the better," he replied, "yet I can scarcely imagine a spring to exist in any such soft sand formation." The vagaries of the interior plains had always mystified him, but he could not be brought to reason against his geological principles.

Mac's verdict was borne of a more practical kind of observation. "Fur ony sake haud yer tongue aboot furmashuns, Phil," he shouted back from his position by the side of "Slavery." "A black buddie needs a drink as weel as a white buddie, an' we'll shin be in the land o' Goschen noo."

"There's one thing we had best remember, boys," I said. "The natives in these latitudes are probably very different from those in the south. They may be cannibals, and considerably more hostile than any tribe we have yet met."

"Niggers!" snorted Mac and Stewart almost simultaneously, with an indescribable inflection of contempt. Further words failed them, but I could see that they had completely forgotten the little episode at El Dorado.

Towards noon we arrived at the point where the smoke had been seen, but only a few charred logs were now in evidence, and they were scattered about in the sand as if they had been partially burnt long previously, and afterwards half submerged in the drifts caused by many seasons' willie-willies. The natives had vanished in some unaccountable manner, leaving not a trace of their recent presence in the vicinity. Far off near the horizon a thick belt of timber stretched across our track, but beyond that again the bare desert merged into the skyline.

"Whaur hae the black deevils gaun to?" Mac demanded indignantly, as if a considerable breach of etiquette had been committed by the rapid flight of our prospective hosts.

Then Stewart proceeded to poke among the scattered ashes, and soon discovered several still glowing logs well sunk beneath the surface. "Mac," said he solemnly, when we clustered round to examine his find, "we'll hae tae ca' canny; the deevils are no defeecient in strategy, an' it's plain they dinna want oor guid company."

Stewart was right; the blacks must have observed our approach, and being unwilling to meet us, had hastily decamped, first taking care to cover up any clue that might have aroused our curiosity. "That field-glass of yours has done good work, Phil," I said, when we turned away. "If you had not noticed the smoke we should never have dreamed that there had been any one here for at least a year, and goodness knows what might have happened if we had gone to sleep in this district without keeping a watch."

Mac chirruped to his patient charge. "Gee up, Slavery," said he, "ye'll get a drink the nicht."

In spite of our most strenuous efforts, however, we were unable to reach the timber belt that day, and darkness closed over and compelled us to camp while we were yet a good way out in the open. For the last several miles the camels had literally to be dragged over the ground by a constant pressure on their nose ropes, and when we halted our weary caravan and unloaded the suffering beasts, they sank upon their knees breathing heavily, and made no attempt to search for anything to eat. It was plain that, should another day pass without water being discovered, our four-footed companions must give up the struggle, which in turn would mean that we should all be doomed to a most unenviable fate.

"Ma puir animile," said Mac, stroking "Slavery's" quivering nostrils, "ye've been nine days withoot a drink, but ye'll get a' ye can tak' the morn."

"Slavery" seemed almost to understand the sympathetic words, and grunted feebly in reply; then I was surprised to see him struggle to his feet and proceed to feed on the spinifex tufts growing around.

"He kens I'm tellin' the truth!" shouted Mac delightedly; and there was much joy among us when "Misery," determined not to be outdone, after several efforts succeeded in rising shakily and joining his neighbour.

"There's life in auld 'Misery' yet," applauded Stewart with hearty satisfaction; and the wonderful endurance shown by the dumb animals made me somewhat ashamed of my own collapsing resolution.

"Let's be happy, boys," counselled Phil in most lugubrious tones. "Life is short, you know, and we'll be a long time dead."

"If I hear ony mair o' they on-comfortable re-marks," slowly spoke Mac, with a reproachful glance at the last speaker, "I'll sing ye the Deid March. A lang time deid, did ye say? For ony sake, Phil, think on something cheery."

"All right, Mac," retorted Phil. "I'll think of the feast we're going to have in the Hotel Cecil when we get back to civilisation." While he spoke he unconsciously hitched in his belt another hole.

Then Stewart's voice rasped out dismally, "There's ... nae ... place like ... hame----"

"Stop that concert!" I cried, while Phil squirmed in agony; but Mac had already seized the throat of the musician in a relentless grip, and the melancholy refrain spluttered out spasmodically to a finish.

"Ye on-ceevilised backslider!" Mac roared in righteous wrath. "Hoo daur ye whine aboot hame in sic a menner? Fur twa peens," he concluded, with rising ferocity--"fur twa peens, ma man, A'd shak' yer teeth oot!"

The half-choked culprit smiled with benign expression, "I wis makin' a joyfu' noise," he replied calmly. "Ye're gettin' gey hard tae please, I'm thinkin'."

Phil laughed till the tears sprang to his eyes and traced small channels down his unwashed face, but he stopped abruptly when Mac shoved a tin pannikin under his chin.

"What a sinfu' waste o' water," said the sphinx. "I raelly wunner at ye, Phil."

Stewart, who had been busying himself about the fire, now interrupted again. "Supper's ready," he howled, "an' the menoo is tinned dug an' damper, or damper an' tinned dug; wi' a puckle roasted rice fur them as wants indee-gestion; the hale tae be washed doon wi' twa or three draps o' dirty watter."

"That sounds nice," I commented, at which he began again.

"Aye an' it's vera dirty watter. It's the last in the bag, an' there's tadpoles an' wee crocodiles swimmin' in't, an----"

"Hold hard, Stewart," said Phil, while Mac was groping about for something substantial to throw at his comrade's head. "Hold hard, you grinning gorilla, and let us discover the mysterious ingredients of our humble fare for ourselves."

"There's an auld saying," Mac grunted complacently, "that what the eye disna see the hert disna grieve fur. If ye'll tak' ma advice, ye'll dine awa' back frae the firelicht." And we took his advice without demur.

We kept a watch that night for the first time during many weeks. The reputation of the Northern Australian natives was not such as inspired confidence in me. I had a wholesome dread of being speared while asleep, and these hostile savages were known to make their attacks invariably after the sun had set, when their tired victims were probably slumbering, unaware of the presence of danger.

Mac volunteered for the first spell of duty, and as a preliminary he carefully drew the small shot charges from his cherished elephant-gun, and replaced them with ominous-looking buckshot cartridges.

"This shid dae mair than tickle them," he grimly remarked, looking at us as we lay stretched upon our sandy couches, and his face, lit up by the ruddy glare of the fire, assumed an unusually malevolent expression.

"You've got to remember, Mac," Phil warned, "that the beggars are probably cannibals, and as you are the fattest of the party, the natural sequence is----"

"Say nae mair," our wary guardian interrupted with a deprecatory wave of his hand, "Spare yer in-seen-uashuns. There's nae nigger'll get near while I'm daein' sentry go, bit at the worst the black deevils wud never bile me when they could get guid tender golologist." With which dark statement he shouldered his gun and commenced to execute what looked like a solemn ghost dance around the boundary of our camp fire's illumination.

The sultry hours dragged slowly on, and the Southern Cross had set and risen again in the eastern sky, yet not a sound reached our ears. Phil relieved Mac at midnight, and I in turn took his place two hours later, but the night passed without alarm.

We had a very dry and unpalatable breakfast next morning; only a few drops of chocolate-coloured sediment remained in the canvas bag, and this none of us cared to swallow for a variety of reasons. So we munched our hard damper, and chewed refractory portions of tinned dog, imagining it to be the most luxurious fare extant, though, unfortunately our imagination was not of a very strong order. We lost no time in making a start, for the early hours were the coolest for travelling, and we wished to gain the shelter of the brush before the sun had swung right overhead. The camels were truly in a very bad state; they could scarcely bear their usual burdens, and reeled drunken-like for several minutes after being loaded, but seemed to recover somewhat when a few miles had been traversed. Yet, strive as we might, we could not make speedy progress, and it was almost noon when we drew near to the timber. The heat was becoming very intense, and in our semi-famished condition we suffered severely.

"We'll camp in the most shaded part of the scrub, boys," I cried, signing to Mac to alter "Slavery's" course more to westward. Phil now clutched my arm excitedly.

"Is that smoke or a light cloud-patch over the tips of these trees?" he asked, directing my gaze towards a thick clump of lime-trees that lay well ahead in the line of our changed route.

I surveyed the feathery shadow indicated intently. "A native smoke, Phil," I answered, as quietly as I could, though hope sprang up within me at the sight.

"What we must do, then," said Phil determinedly, "is to capture one or two representatives of the tribe and make them lead us to water."

"Me an' Stewart'll shin attend to that," growled Mac, hearing the suggestion with ill-concealed delight.

We were now entering the outskirts of the pigmy forest, and Phil and I took the lead of our caravan with firearms ready in case of attack; while Mac and Stewart, leading their charges warily in our tracks, peered suspiciously into the densest shadows as they passed. The shrubs were of much greater height than we had expected, and soon they surrounded us in thick even growths through which we steered an erratic course with difficulty.

I was about to call a halt when a thick pile of withered branches, propped against the lower heights of some half-dozen close-growing trees, arrested my attention. "A windbreak! Go slow!" I cautioned those in the rear; but soon we found that we were in the midst of quite a number of these rude shelters, all of which seemed to be of very recent erection. "There is evidently a tribe in the vicinity," I said to Phil, who was gazing at the strange contrivances with much curiosity, and noting how differently they were constructed from the crude wind-barriers met during the earlier part of our journey.

"They appear to work on some design here," he remarked thoughtfully; "the branches are interlaced, and the construction might ultimately evolve into a kind of hut or wigwam."

"I am much more concerned about the whereabouts of the population," I said, and I glanced apprehensively through the trees; then we resumed our march. A few minutes more passed in silence as we proceeded with ears alert for the slightest sound.

We were, as nearly as I could guess, about midway through the forest when Mac suddenly gave a yell of mingled joy and surprise.

"Haud on! Haud on!" he shouted. "I see niggers richt forrit a wee bit. Come on, Stewart, an' we'll shin catch are or twa speecimens."

Mac's information was correct. A convenient gap in the foliage had not been overlooked by him, and his sharp eyes had quickly taken in the view directly ahead. His warning had scarcely been given when we crashed through a maze of windbreaks and entered a clearing in the thicket, and there, in the centre of the open space, fully a dozen hideously scarred and painted warriors stood with spears and boomerangs upraised, gazing in our direction. Mac and Stewart were now forcing past me, and it took Phil and me all our time to restrain their ardour. We had instinctively retired into the shelter of the brush, and none too soon, for a hail of spears rustled through the willowy branches and stuck fast without doing any damage.

"Their spears may be poisoned," I said to the indignant pair. "You've got a different sort of savage to deal with in these latitudes."

"They'll get awa'!" Mac roared excitedly. "They'll get awa'!"

"Let me gang," implored Stewart. "I'm that thin they couldna hit me, an' in ony case I'm teuch eneuch tae staun ony pison."

"Get the camels sheltered, boys," I ordered; "we'll try a policy of conciliation in the first place."

My aides-de-camp grumblingly led "Slavery" and "Misery" back a few paces, and Phil examined the chambers of his Colt Navy with considerable impatience. We were by no means hidden by the scraggy branches fringing the open space, and that fact was impressed upon us most plainly when several more well-directed spears glanced along the sand at our feet. Mac fumed, and the hammers of his gun came back with an ominous double click. "You can cover them with your cannon," I said to him, "while I try the powers of persuasive language," and I stepped as boldly as I could out towards the hostile band. "Babba, babba," I cried, with my hands raised in token of peace. They gave a curious gurgle of surprise and retreated before me as if afraid. I repeated as much of the native jargon as I knew, with, as I thought, an exceedingly friendly inflection. Then they recovered themselves, and came rushing towards me. I stood irresolute for an instant, for the warriors had discarded their spears, and I wondered for a brief space whether they were now hurrying to tender their expressions of good-will. When they were within a dozen yards off, however, they united in a shrill scream, and brandished in their right hands most bloodthirsty-looking clubs which they had carried secreted at their backs. Their intention could not now be doubted, and I turned and fled.

"Give them the small-shot barrel, Mac," I cried.

"Sma' shot be d----d!" he howled in reply, and the boom of his artillery filled my ears as he spoke.

When the smoke cleared away I saw that the blacks had retreated to the extreme end of the clearing, where the bulk of them stood huddled together, groaning horribly, and making most frightful grimaces at us.

Two feather-bedizened warriors were prancing absurdly in the middle distance, and emitting piercing shrieks as they slowly hopped back to rejoin their comrades.

"I aimed low," said Mac apologetically, noting their antics with much satisfaction, "an' I dinna see what they're makin' a' that row aboot."

I was glad to notice that no serious injury had been done to the poor creatures, and, judging by the activity shown by the wounded pair, they were evidently much more frightened than hurt.

"I don't think there is any more fight in them, boys," I said, and I stepped forward, followed by my companions, who tugged at the nose-ropes of the reluctant camels. A few belated missiles, flung in half-hearted fashion, struck the ground at our feet; the blacks still stood in our path, glaring at us sullenly.

"Level your cannon again, Mac," I instructed, "but _don't_ fire."

He obeyed with alacrity, just in time to check a fresh flight of spears. The natives had already acquired a wholesome dread of the formidable-looking breechloader. With ear-splitting yells they scattered before our advance, and in a moment were lost to sight in the forest.

We made a brief halt by the scene of their stand in order to search the near vicinity for water, but not a drop of moisture could be located anywhere around. Windbreaks were very numerous some little distance back from the enclosure, which showed that we had practically stumbled upon a native village. Yet it must have been only a settlement used as a temporary camp between two known springs, unless the water resources of the district were very cunningly hidden.

"There must be water near at hand," said Phil. "These trees could not grow so freshly otherwise."

"We've missed our one chance, I fear," I answered him sadly. "We ought to have captured one of the natives while we had the opportunity."

"Let us go now," said he; "they cannot be very far off yet."

"We'll gang! we'll gang!" Mac and Stewart cried clamorously together. "We'll shin catch the deevils!"

But I restrained them. "You are both too reckless," I explained, "and we should probably never see you again if you lost your bearings in the bush." I knew that my worthy henchmen would disdain to use any stratagem, and in consequence would surely be speared by the vengeful savages.

"You can trust me, Mac," said Phil grimly. "I'll fetch you a specimen or two to play with," and Mac, noting his unusual fierceness of expression, felt comforted.

Leaving our over-eager companions in charge of the camels, I took a hurried bearing of our position, and dashed off with Phil in the direction taken by the fleeing band. I could still hear the branches crackling before their wild rush, and I hoped that the sound might guide us in our quest. For several minutes we kept up a rapid pace, but we quickly realised that our running powers were not equal to those of the blacks. The blistering sand showered in our faces, and the brittle twigs of the mallee cut us severely. The sun had now reached his meridian, and shot his rays so fiercely upon us that we were soon compelled to reduce our speed. We dared not allow ourselves to perspire, and so lose the little moisture our bodies contained. Meanwhile the vague crackling of the brushwood in the far distance became fainter and fainter, intimating to us very plainly that our intended prisoners were far from our reach. We were weary and hopeless, yet we mechanically continued on. Our thoughts, as may be guessed, were the reverse of pleasant, and we did not care to give them expression. Few would have recognised in Phil, the fresh-faced, merry-spirited young man who had led the Five-Mile rush. His face was now deeply bronzed, and bore the stamp of the hardships encountered, and his firm-set mouth showed a vastly increased force of will.

"The beggars seem to have vanished completely," he said, when we had travelled at least half a mile in silence. "What a tidy row of skeletons we'll make," he added lightly. "'A rale dacent coleckshun,' as Mac would say."

"We'll hear Mac's remarks later," I answered, "and we're not by any means dead yet."

We had now reached a slight dip in the land surface, and in the depression a well-padded native track appeared. We followed it eagerly until it broke off into two trails, forming an acute angle.

"You take one, I'll take the other," I said. "If you find anything signal with your revolver, and I'll do the same, though it is more than likely they lead to the same place."

"All right!" he replied, and we separated.

Hurriedly I sped along, now this way, now that, as the trail twisted and twined in the manner peculiar to most bush tracks, and I seemed to have entered a maze. Then I came to a point where it divided and subdivided, and I hesitated, wondering which branch to follow. I went down on my knees and closely examined the sand at the junction, and after a careful scrutiny I was rewarded by distinguishing the imprint of an aboriginal's ungainly foot at the entrance to one of the offshoots, and I hastened along the course indicated, half stooping and sometimes kneeling, in my extreme anxiety to keep on the pad, which could only be traced with the utmost difficulty.

Gaily-plumaged birds now surrounded me, chattering noisily, and their presence imbued me with hope. There, indeed, must be water near, if I could only find it. My guiding path led me several hundred yards over a sand and gravel surface, through which a stray blade of wiry grass peeped here and there; but gradually the grasses grew closer, and their trampled appearance showed me that some one had only recently crossed that way. I was brought to a halt abruptly. The track had come to an end, and I stood at the edge of a small circular space, in the centre of which a tall lime-tree stretched high above the stunted shrubs adjoining.

The significance of the sight was not altogether lost on me. I had usually found lime-trees and water in close proximity, but here no welcome spring gladdened my eyes, the circle was bare and parched-looking, except on the far-away side, where a rank clump of spinifex lined the gaunt stems of the mallee. I was bitterly disappointed.

"Looks like a circus-ring," I said to myself. "Probably used for holding grand corroborees." I turned away in disgust, and sat down in the sand, heedless alike of snakes, scorpions, or other crawling things. I was trying to consider what our immediate future must be, and my deductions were not cheering. Then I wondered where Phil had gone, and whether his quest had been more successful than mine; but I had heard no signal, therefore, I reasoned, he would be in a somewhat similar plight to myself, or perhaps he had already rejoined Mac and Stewart. I continued my musings in a calmly-resigned state of mind, but was suddenly aroused to alertness; the faint sound of rustling branches reached my ears. I got up speedily and looked all round, but nothing could be seen, and I blamed my too eager fancy for the alarm. Glancing at the sun, and taking a rough compass bearing, I prepared to return to my companions by a direct route through the bush. But again the peculiar sound attracted my attention. My fancy had not deceived me this time, and I surveyed the open space closely, but nothing met my anxious gaze. Then, just as I was leaving the scene, the secret of the rustling branches was revealed, and I smiled grimly at my lack of perception. On the extreme edge of the clearing, half hidden by the spidery tendrils of the sparse fringing bush, two natives lay sprawling on the sand, carefully piling a heap of twigs and spinifex grass, as if in preparation for a large fire. They lay with their backs towards me, pursuing their work with diligence, and as the colour of their bodies was almost similar to that of their surroundings, they were not easily observable, as I had already proved. I noticed with satisfaction that their weapons were strewn in the grass some few yards out of their reach. These comprised two evil-looking waddies and a number of double-barbed spears--a formidable collection, truly. I examined my small S. and W. revolver with purposeful intent, and was on the point of rushing forward when a loud crackle came from another part of the ring. It seemed to me as if a stout branch had given way before some other, and more impetuous, watcher than myself. More natives might be near. I drew back into the shadow. The dusky pair were evidently wildly alarmed; they leapt to their feet and looked about with a startled expression, and then I recognised them as two of those who had so stubbornly contested our advance less than an hour back. They glared at each other terror-stricken, and pointed to the sun and the four corners of the earth in turn, accompanying their odd gesticulations by a stream of monosyllabic utterances. Apparently they were invoking various gods to their aid. In the midst of this pantomime a well-known figure burst into the enclosure from the still swaying scrub, and before the natives could escape he clutched them both in a tight embrace, and bore them back by almost superhuman effort.

"Phil!" I cried in amazement, jumping forward, and relieving him of one of his prisoners.

"We've got them!" he shouted with fierce emotion. "Keep still, you imp of darkness!"

His prisoner was still struggling violently, but soon realised the hopelessness of his efforts, and became quiescent as mine, who was rolling his eyes at me beseechingly.

Then we looked at each other, half in amusement half in surprise, and I noticed that his sole upper garment, his sand-stained shirt, was torn half across the shoulders.

"It caught in a branch," he explained, examining the rent ruefully, "and the noise I made in breaking loose nearly frightened the blacks away."

"But how did you get here?" I asked, for the tracks we had followed seemed to lead very widely apart.

"The trails intersect, but all find their way here," he answered. "Anyhow, I've been watching these beggars building a monument, or something like it, for the last five minutes or so."

"I have had my eye on them also," I said, "but I didn't dream of your being so close. Hold my prisoner a moment," I added; "we'll see what they have been doing."

He promptly sat on my savage's neck, while I got up and kicked away the pile of branches. And lo! beneath them lay disclosed a gurgling spring of clearest water.

I could not describe the joy that was ours at that moment. Phil simply gasped with relief, and was not satisfied that his eyes did not deceive him until I lifted some of the sparkling liquid in the palm of my hand and let it trickle slowly through my fingers. The blacks remained passive enough now, only groaning dismally at intervals. It was not difficult to understand why they had attempted to hide the spring. As Stewart had first surmised, they did not want our good company, and who could blame them? There was no need to rejoin our comrades now, so we discharged our revolvers as a signal to them to approach, and soon their familiar voices were heard far back raised in high debate. Mac was apparently holding forth on some pet doctrine with which Stewart doggedly refused to coincide. They had forced their thoughts far away from unpleasant topics; they knew how necessary it was to keep up a semblance of cheerfulness in trying times, and for the rest they trusted to my greater experience and Phil's superior knowledge.

The dwarfed trees broke before the advancing train. Poor old "Slavery" was evidently leading the trail at a harder pace than usual.

"Come alang, 'Slavery'! Wad ye hae me pu' ye?" I heard Mac's voice raised in pathetic entreaty, as the swaying brush about a hundred yards back betokened their near approach. A few minutes more and "Slavery" and "Misery" staggered into the clearing, with Mac and Stewart pulling strenuously at their nose-ropes. The poor beasts' eyes were gleaming strangely, and their breath came in long wheezing groans.

"We can hang oot anither day yet," Mac shouted encouragingly immediately he saw us, trying bravely to look cheerful. Then when he noticed the natives on whom we were comfortably seated his astonishment was great. "Guid heavens!" he ejaculated. "Stewart, we've got them efter a'."

But Stewart had caught sight of the glistening water, and with a fervent exclamation he buried his face in it and drank deeply. The camels now, feeling the tension relieved at their nose-ropes, sank upon their knees dead beat, and their heads drooped in the sand. Phil and I watched the scene in silence: it was as the last act of a drama, with the proverbial happy ending. Mac's rugged features fairly glowed when he saw the saving spring. He strode forward, and jerked his comrade's dripping face from the water. "Dinna mak' a beast o' yersel'," he said shortly. "Ower muckle's bad for ye, an' it's ma turn onywey." But they found room for two heads, and Phil said they reduced the level of the water by several inches.

The camels' wants now received attention. We allowed them to drink sparingly only, as they would quickly have drained the well, which refilled very slowly; but before the day was out they had absorbed their full supply, and were on a fair way towards the recovery of their wonted vigour. We camped by the spring, which we named "Warriors' Well," for two days, during which time we were engaged filling the great water-bags, and patching our tattered clothing so as to make a respectable appearance when we arrived at the nearest settlement, now less than a hundred miles distant. We fed our prisoners lavishly on tinned dog and flour while they remained in our charge, and they seemed to appreciate the diet hugely; yet, do what we might, they retained their sullen demeanour, and always howled plaintively when we approached near them. They made their escape on the morning of our departure, much to Mac's disgust. That worthy had conceived the idea of training them to act in the capacity of body-servants to Stewart and himself.

"They would hae been bonnie orniments tae tak' hame tae auld Scotland," he said regretfully.

"We'll be bonnie-like orniments oorsels, Mac," responded Stewart, surveying his dark-brown skin. "We'll be nigger enough like, I'm thinkin'."

We resumed our march with lighter hearts than we had had for many a day. Our journey was practically completed, for our water supply would now last until we reached comparatively sure country. It is true we had not benefited by the expedition as I had hoped when starting, but we had gained a hard knowledge of the country, and of our own powers of endurance under extremely adverse circumstances, which would prove invaluable to us in the further journeyings I was at this stage planning. Phil had become indissolubly connected with my little party. His worth had been demonstrated over and over again, and it was with pleasure I heard his decision, as we drew near settled latitudes, to throw in his lot with mine in my future travels.

"Ye're a man o' pairts, Phil," was Mac's unhesitating verdict, and Stewart added, as a fitting tribute, "I'm o' the same opeenion."

Twelve days after leaving the providentially-found spring we arrived on the north-west coast of Australia, and there disposed of our faithful old camels to ready purchasers. Mac's eyes were moist when he said good-bye to the gentle "Slavery," and Stewart was loath to part with his old charge, "Misery." As they were led away I bestowed a benediction on the trusty servants of our dreary journey, and elicited a promise from their new possessor that he would treat them kindly as they deserved. About a week later we sailed for Sydney.