CHAPTER XXIII.
The Dry Creek—Brown has a Solitary Camp—A Mysterious Light
"It is unfortunate," said Morton the next morning when they were preparing to start, "that Stuart did not give a description of the creek, or of the water where they camped the next night."
"Yes, it's rather a game of blindman's-buff, for they may have gone north or south of the direct line."
"How far do you make it to the mountain direct?" asked Brown.
A rough chart, compiled every night by dead reckoning, had been kept since they started, and Morton had been working it up the night before.
"Over one hundred miles; and if it is scrub all the way, with sand underfoot, equal to one hundred and fifty."
"No good, then, our striking straight for the mountain and trusting to chance for finding water on the way?"
"Too risky altogether. We must find this brackish creek somehow."
"We can't get back the way we came to the lake, for the last water we camped at must be bone dry by this time."
"How about going round by Hentig's grave if we are beaten back utterly?"
"Yes, as a last resource, we might try that. Lee-lee could not help us, for I don't think he ever stirred far from that lagoon where you found him."
"Let us trust to our lucky star and get on anyhow," returned Morton as he swung himself into his saddle, and they were soon filing slowly through the scrub.
The scrub consisted of mulga and a dense undergrowth of lance wood, so that the progress made was very slow. Moreover, it was a difficult thing to keep a straight course amongst so many obstacles. With the exception that the scrub was sometimes denser than usual they experienced no change, until about two o'clock, when they emerged into a small open space, and Charlie exclaimed that they had come to a graveyard.
The clearing they had entered was a white clay flat, sparsely grown over with spinifex, and covered with ant-hills about three feet in height, bearing a startling resemblance to the headstones of graves.
The party halted, partly to discuss their movements, and partly to have something to eat. Morton, who finished first, mounted his horse and rode in a southerly direction, telling the others he would be back directly.
"The scrub is thinner to the south-east," he said when he came back, "and beyond I can see another flat like this. I vote we shift our course for a few miles. This change of country may mean that the creek is somewhere about here."
Brown agreed to this, and Morton went ahead.
Passing through a belt of scrub they came to another flat like the one they had left, but somewhat larger. From this they passed through thinner belts of scrub until the flat became continuous, still, however, covered with the ant-hills.
Presently Morton pointed ahead, and a line of creek gums of no great height was now visible. The creek was bordered by a sandy flat with some coarse grass on it. The water-course was shallow, crossed here and there by bars of sandstone rock; but it was as dry as though water had never been in it for years. It ran easterly.
"This is a lively look-out," said Morton. "Shall we follow this creek down, or camp here and one go up and one go down the creek?"
"If we find nothing wet we must retreat to the spring to-morrow morning."
"We must; but if we all go on down the creek and find nothing wet, as you express it, we shall be too far to retreat."
"Does not this creek come from much the same direction we came from?" asked Charlie.
"If it keeps the same course as it runs here, it does," replied Morton.
"We are just as likely to find water up as down," went on Charlie; "but if we follow it up we shall be getting nearer to the spring instead of away from it, and if we don't find water can easily cut across to it."
"And have much better travelling-ground along this flat," said Brown. "Charlie, my boy, we shall make a first-class bushmen of you before we get home. A1, copper-fastened at Lloyds."
Charlie's suggestion was unanimously accepted, and the party turned up the creek, making for the westward again. Morton elected to follow the bed of the creek, whilst the others kept as straight a course as they could along the flat.
The creek still continued dry, and no birds of any kind were visible—a bad sign. Like most creeks running through the level interior it gave indications every now and then of running out altogether. At last, however, it grew narrower and deeper, and Morton saw a group of gum-trees ahead, somewhat taller than those lining the banks. There was a small bar of rocks across the channel, and when he rode over this he saw a pool of water before him fringed with green reeds. The water looked strangely clear as he rode down to it; his horse put his head down to drink, but lifted it at once with a dissatisfied snort.
"I guess what's up," thought Morton, dismounting. He stooped and lifted some water to his lips with his scooped hand.
"Bah!" It was salter than brine.
Remounting, he rode up the bank and called to the others, who were visible slightly ahead. They waited when they saw him riding towards them.
"I think we had better ride straight for the spring," he said; "there's water down there, but it's salter than the Pacific Ocean."
"We have good travelling along here," replied Brown. "I think we ought to keep on here as far as we can and then strike off for the spring. It doesn't much matter about water now, for the spring can't be many miles off."
"You follow the creek, then, for a bit; you seem luckier than I am. It does not much matter about the water, as you say, but I should like to know whether there was any fresh water in it as well as salt."
Brown went off to the creek and they once more started, until Morton calculated that a short three miles through the scrub which was running parallel to them would bring them to the spring. He shouted to Brown and fired his revolver, and when Brown joined them they turned off and reached the spring at dusk.
"Back for the first time," said Morton, as they unpacked at their old camp. "I wonder how many times we shall have to return here."
"Lucky we have such a good camp to stand by us," answered Brown. "We can always get from here to the lake."
The next thing to consider was their movements for the morrow. Morton suggested that perhaps the clay formation altered the conditions of the creek, and below, the water, if not fresh, was at least only brackish.
"I doubt it," said Brown; "these clay formations generally carry salt."
"One of us had better take Billy and a couple of horses packed with water. Let Billy go about twenty miles, then, whoever goes on, give his horse a couple of bags of water and hang the others up on the branch of a tree against his return."
"That's the only safe way," replied Brown. "Who is to go, you or I?"
"You're the lucky one."
"No. You found Lee-lee; let's toss up."
"That's all right, but where's the coin?"
"Rather good," laughed Brown. "Men with a rich reef in their possession and can't raise a copper to toss with."
"We must shake in the hat," replied Morton.
He tore up a leaf of his note-book, made a mark on one scrap, doubled them up and shook them together in his hat.
Brown drew the marked paper, and chose to go.
"Don't run away with my share of the reef while I am away," he said as he got on his horse early the next morning, and, followed by Billy driving the two horses, was soon lost to sight in the scrub.
"We may as well go out and amuse ourselves at the reef," said Morton; "we can do nothing until he comes back."
They saddled up, and spent the best part of the day in knocking stones out and breaking them, returning in the evening with a few extra rich specimens to add to those they already had.
"If we show these specimens when we get home, won't somebody suspect, and follow our tracks back?" said Charlie.
"If we are fools enough to show them," replied his cousin; "but we'll take all sorts of good care that we don't, until we are ready to come out ourselves, and have pretty well located the place. If Brown does not turn up before morning, we will go out again to-morrow and see if we can trace the reef any further."
Billy turned up with the two horses just at dusk. He had accompanied Brown some miles beyond where they turned back, but there had been no change in the creek as far as he went.
Brown, meanwhile, kept on down the creek after parting with the blackboy. It continued enlarging, and contracting again, in the eccentric manner of an inland water-course, but there was no sign of water, fresh or salt.
The silence, lifelessness, and the gloomy neighbourhood of the scrub on one side of him naturally affected his spirits, and when night fell the sense of loneliness was increased. As it was useless going on in the dark, he determined to give his horse a few hours' rest and then go back.
"The moon rises at twelve o'clock," he thought; "if I start then, I shall get back to the water-bags by daylight."
He short-hobbled his horse, sat down at the foot of a tree with his saddle at his back, and lit his pipe. The great stillness of the desert surrounded and oppressed him with the intensity of its silence. Not a leaf rustled, not a night bird could be heard; the jingle of his horse's hobble-chain, and his munching as he cropped the grass, was a welcome sound in that dreary waste. No one knows what a companion a horse is until he has passed a few solitary nights in the uninhabited bush of the interior. Gradually Brown felt sleep stealing over him.
"I can afford to doze," he thought. "I'm pretty uncomfortable, so I sha'n't sleep long."
His head fell back on his saddle, and he was soon fast asleep. He awoke suddenly, feeling stiff and unrefreshed. Springing to his feet, he listened for the sound of his horse; but everything was still.
"What a fool I was to go to sleep!" he thought. "I expect my old prad has made back up the creek, and I shall have to stump it to the camp. Wonder what the time is."
He took his watch out of his pouch, and, the starlight not being strong enough, struck a match. Instantly he was agreeably startled by a loud snort of surprise close to him, and his horse, who had been lying down asleep, got on his legs and shook himself. Brown felt so relieved that he went over and patted and stroked him.
"I thought you had left me in the lurch, old fellow," he said, as he slipped the bridle over his head, for it was nearly midnight, and he thought he might as well make a start. As he stood up after stooping to take the hobbles off, his attention was attracted by a brightness in the eastern sky. "Moon rising," he thought, and led his horse to the tree where his saddle was.
He saddled his horse and was about to mount, when he noticed that the sky was no brighter, and the glow was reddish in colour.
"Moon's rather long-winded," he muttered, and stood there watching for its appearance; but it obstinately refused to appear.