We slept no more that night, and before sunrise started off across the clay-pan. The surface was smooth and hard, and with the aid of a slight breeze which arose with the sun we skimmed along at an almost incredible pace.
"Hallo, Ted! There's our old stakes," suddenly yelled Bill, steering for the crest of a broken piece of ground, and following in his tracks, we soon were standing round a broken pick-handle standing upright in the ground and on which was inscribed: "C.B. and S.T. Pros. Claim. Corner Peg."
"How on earth did you manage to lead us here, Bill?" cried the Parson wonderingly.
"Easy enough; this is the same season as when we were out, so we jest ran the ole sun down an' at night ye can always git the bearin's from the Cross."
The Parson's surprise might have been greater had he known that my compass had been useless since the second day out, and that but for a few haphazard observations taken, Bill had been our only guide. Meanwhile Ted had unstrapped a pick and set to work, and before I had fully realised that we stood on what—in the rainy season, if such a season existed in those parts—was an island in the centre of Lake Frome, and that it was its salt-encrusted bed we had been crossing since morning, he handed me a piece of some scintillating substance, inquiring, by the shape of his face, my opinion as to its value.
"Why, that's opalised wood," I exclaimed." But what have we struck now?"
"The opal we told ye about, of course," grunted Bill. "The sand's blown over it, and Ted's dug it up again; that's all."
Truly we had encountered a marvellous formation. Great masses of fiery and orange opal were uncovered on every side, and for a day we did nothing but gather the best. It was evident that a forest had at one time occupied the site of the lake, for most of the opal showed the grains of wood throughout its structure, and many opalised leaves were found embedded in a matrix which looked uncommonly like bark. This latter fact was most puzzling, for the trees with bark in Australia are few indeed. We pegged out seven prospector's claims, and after a final look round prepared to move, our intention being to arrange for suitable transport for stores and water, and then come back.
"Ye talk about the effeeciency o' the steam engine," muttered Scottie, as he examined the liquid contents of our bags, "but it's far oot o' date now, for we've each got to run a hundred miles a day on a pint o' water, and if onything can beat this——"