But Smith grew impatient.
"This rain has filled up the holes," he cried, "and there'll be plenty for a week or two, even if no more falls."
"No more will fall," said Tom. "It's rare luck as this fell."
But, all the same, before they went back, he promised to go with the others upon their expedition.
"It must be out there somewhere," said Hicks that night, when everything was ready for the morning's start. "For Bill Herder, that brought that bit of stuff in, was only gone a fortnight. And if he was off his nut with the fever, I believe he spoke the gospel truth. And, anyhow, that lump of stuff doesn't lie, and where it came from is not more than a week's journey."
For Herder, who had helped to turn their faces to the north-east, had died in the very bed occupied by the Cockney. He dropped off his horse at the door one evening as the chums were at supper, and three days afterwards he collapsed and went out. All he had brought back with him was one lump of quartz and gold, weighing about eight pounds. He looked at them pitifully before he died, but could tell them nothing but that he got it "out yonder." So he was buried, and no one knew if he had a friend to whom news of his death should be sent.
The first expedition made by Hicks, Smith, and Mandeville, was an ill-considered and rash one. For Smith was reckless. He was always ready to take chances that any other man would shirk. He rushed his chums into a violent hurry, and got them a day out on the burning plain before they knew it. Some of the men in town believed they knew where they were going, and followed them from a distance. But when they saw the open dry horror of a flat world before them, those who sneaked behind failed in their hearts and turned back. They spread reports of the country in that quarter, which gave rise at last to circumstantial rumours that the Smith party was already dead of thirst.
But on the fourth day they came in.
Smith had growled even then, for he swore that another few hours would bring them to water. A faint cloud-line on the horizon he described as big trees by a creek. But the water in their big bags was nearly done, and one had leaked.
"This time," said Smith, "I'm going through, if I die like a dog on a wet sack."