In Quest of Gold; Or, Under the Whanga Falls

by Alfred St. Johnston

The native was away for about two hours, and when he returned he brought the body of a good large kangaroo with him, which he had stalked and killed.

This addition to their stores was very useful, and indeed, necessary, for although they had managed to get Dandy back again, all the provisions that Prince Tom had stolen from them and packed on him had utterly and hopelessly vanished. Murri himself cooked the animal, as is the right and prerogative always of the man who slays the game, and ate an enormous quantity of it also; but eat as he could there was enough for all of them that night, and for their first meal next day. They kept a keen watch that night again, but they neither heard nor saw anything of the myalls.

CHAPTER VIII.
A TERRIBLE ENEMY.

The boys were up next morning, whilst still the stars shone undimmed in the sky, and succeeded in catching their horses without very much trouble. The fire had smouldered all night through, so that they had a cheerful blaze very quickly, and boiled their tea in a few minutes. They were anxious to make as early a start as possible, as they had lost time the day before, and as soon as they could tear Murri away from the still plenteous remains of their yesterday's roast they sprang into the saddle. But the native was wiser than they, for, when they were mounted, and Como was leaping round them and barking in a manner that was highly indecorous in a dog of his years and sober aspect, he stopped them, and said in his funny English—

"White fellow bail pitnee" (never thinks). "Mine must fill um bockles plenty much water. Bail water bong along o' this stage. Hot, hot this day. All um creek gone away."

Saying this he filled all the canvas water bottles at the spring, and then took a long drink himself, as though laying in a good store of the precious commodity.

Murri was right; the day was an intensely hot one, and every moment of all that long forenoon the scorching sun gained greater power. The country through which they were riding was quite shadeless for the great rolling plains were only covered with a dense tall growth of perfectly dry and withered grass and scrub. The twigs of the mulga and the stunted iron-bark bushes were so dry and brittle that they rattled like bones when shaken by the horses as they passed through them, and broke off short if they were touched. The earth was either dried to a powder or baked so firm and hard that the horses' hoofs rang on it as though on a pavement. The very trees that grew on the banks of the gullies were shrivelled and brown. The one or two creeks that they had to cross—taking the horses up and down the steep crumbling banks with the greatest difficulty—were mere tracks of white and dazzling sand, with here and there, in the shadow of the bank, a tiny pool, that was fast drying up, remaining to prove that it ever had been a rapid watercourse. This sand, as, indeed, did the whole earth, reflected the burning rays of the sun till to move out of the shade was almost intolerable.

It was evident, from the parched and dried-up appearance of all vegetation, and from the lowness of the water in the little pools of the creek, that there had been no rain for very many months. There had been no heavy rainfall at Wandaroo for a very long period, and it seemed that this part of the country had suffered a much longer drought. Flocks of birds were flying about the little stagnant pools in the creeks, dashing themselves head first into the water in their eagerness to quench their thirst. Crowds of animals, kangaroos and wallabies principally, were congregated at the muddy margins to drink at the fast-failing supply. No rain had fallen thereabouts for a year or more.

To make matters worse, infinitely worse, a stifling hot wind rose with the sun, blowing from the west, all across the gigantic sand plains of the interior where the air was dried and heated as though in some vast furnace. Every breath that they drew was painful, and the heated blasts of air dried up the moisture of their body and shrivelled their skin in a manner that must be experienced to be believed. The animals, as is always the case, seemed to feel the heat even more than the men; to such an extent did the horses suffer that it seemed barbarous to ride them, and had Murri not continually urged the lads to try to get to Nooergup, where he said was an unfailing spring, they would have halted for the sake of their cattle. They did make one good halt at mid-day to rest the horses, which were far too jaded to eat, although they had been so spirited in the early morning before the hot wind had sprung up.