Some Heroes of Travel / or, Chapters from the History of Geographical Discovery and Enterprise

by W. H. Davenport Adams

The old camel did not improve, and on the 16th the Colonel was compelled to abandon him. Three misfortunes followed: on the 17th two riding camels were taken ill, having been struck in the loins by the night wind; and on the 18th the same fate befell Richard Warburton’s riding camel. Thus, in three days the travellers lost four camels. They endeavoured to make some profit out of the misadventure by “curing” a quantity of camel-meat. The inner portions of the animal were first eaten—not the liver and other dainty parts only, but the whole; every single scrap was carefully consumed, not a shred was wasted. Then, head, feet, hide, tail, all went into the boiling pot. Even the very bones were stewed down, for soup first, and afterwards for the sake of the marrow they contained. The flesh was cut into thin flat strips, and hung upon the bushes for three days to be dried by the sun. The tough thick hide was cut up and parboiled, the coarse hair scraped off with a knife, and the leathery substance replaced in the pot and stewed until, both as to flavour and savour, it bore a disagreeable resemblance to the inside of a carpenter’s glue-pot. As may be supposed, such a dish as this was not so nutritious as the roast beef (or mutton) of Old England; but it stifled for a while the cry of an empty stomach. The attack next fell upon the head, which was speedily reduced to a polished skull. As for the foot, like cow-heel or sheep’s trotters, it was looked upon as a delicacy, and its preparation was a marvel of culinary skill. First, a good fire was lighted, and allowed to burn down to bright red embers, while the foot, severed at the hock, was scraped and singed as thoroughly as time permitted. The foot was thrust into the glowing coals, burnt for some considerable time, removed, placed on its side on the ground, and deprived of its tough horny sole. After this elaborate series of operations, the reader will doubtless suppose that the delicacy is fit for the table. Not a bit of it! It must be placed in a bucket of water, and kept steadily boiling for six and thirty hours; then, and then only, may it be served up. On the whole, we should not consider it a dish for a hungry man.

The 21st of September was the anniversary of their departure from Adelaide. Two of the party went out on camels to search for water, and two, in a different direction, on foot. As they had only two riding camels left, and these in a weak condition, they threw away their tents, and most of their private property, retaining only their guns and ammunition, and clothing enough for decency. Happily, one of the reconnoitring parties found a well, to which the travellers at once proceeded, and watered the thirsty, weary camels.

After a three days’ halt they resumed their advance, but moved very slowly. They were sick and feeble, and the country was difficult to traverse. Another camel had to be abandoned; so that out of seventeen animals, only eight remained. A plague of insects was added to their troubles. Not only did clouds of common flies buzz and worry around them, and legions of ants assail them, but the Australian bee, or honey-fly, tormented them by its pertinacious adhesion to their persons—an unwelcome adhesion, as it is famed for its intolerable smell. To get water they were again compelled to wander from the direct route, and at one time they descended as far south as lat. 20° 2′. Hence they began to suffer from want of provisions, and a grim alternative faced them: if they pressed forward, they ran the chance of losing their camels and dying of thirst; if they halted, they could hope only to prolong their lives on sun-dried camel flesh.

On the 3rd of October their condition was critical. The improvident Afghans, having consumed all their flour and meat, had to be supplied from the scanty rations of the white men, and Colonel Warburton resolved that if water were but once more found, so that he might not be compelled to retrace his steps, he would at all risks push forward to the river Oakover. Another riding camel broke down, and was killed for meat. A well was discovered, but the supply of water was so small that only one bucketful could be obtained in three hours, and on the second day it ran dry. On the 8th, having slightly recruited their animals, the undaunted travellers again moved forward; but one of the camels was still so feeble that Colonel Warburton and his son took it in turns to walk. The Colonel had the first stage, and, owing to stoppages from loads slipping off at the sand-hills, he soon struck ahead of the camels. Suddenly, hearing a noise behind him, he turned;—nine armed blacks were rushing full upon him! He halted to confront them, and they too stopped, at fifteen yards apart; two of them, in bravado, poised their spears, but, on his advancing pistol in hand, immediately lowered them, and a parley followed, in which, however, as neither understood the other’s language, there was very little edification.

The blacks were all chattering round him, when he heard a shot, as he supposed, on his “right front.” In reality it was fired from quite an opposite direction; but he was unwilling to answer the signal, because he did not wish to lose one of the three charges of his pistol. Moreover, the natives might have supposed that the single discharge had exhausted his resources, and have made an attack upon him. He accompanied them to their camp, and got a little water. The women and children would not approach him, but, thanks to his grey beard, the men similarly equipped welcomed him readily. There was a general passing of hands over each other’s beards—a sign of friendship, it is to be presumed; for, after this little ceremony, the intercourse was conducted on the most amicable terms. Eventually the Colonel resumed his walk across the hot glaring sand-hills, until he thought he had covered the required distance, and that the camels would soon overtake him; then he stopped, lighted a fire, smoked a pipe, and would have indulged in a short nap, had the ants been agreeable. Finding that sleep was impossible, he resolved on returning to the camp of the blacks for some more water; but, at that moment, his son and Lewis arrived with Charley, who had followed up his tracks, and he found that he must retrace his steps, having gone astray. Exhausted by heat, hunger, and fatigue, he could scarcely stagger along; but his companions supported his tottering feet, and in the evening he reached their encampment.

A good supply of water had been discovered, and, notwithstanding the alarming scarcity of provisions, it was indispensable that they should halt by it for some days, in order to give the camels an opportunity of partially recovering their strength. Without them the explorers could hardly hope to cross the wide and weary wilderness in which they were involved. Their rapidly diminishing store of food they endeavoured to eke out by killing such feathered spoil as came within their range—Gular parrots, and bronze-wing and top-knot pigeons—and by a mess of boiled salt-plant (Salicornia). On the 14th they resumed their weary march.

An entry or two from Colonel Warburton’s journal will afford a vivid idea of his distressed condition at this period:—

“19th. This is Sunday. How unlike one at home! Half a quart of flour and water at four a.m.; a hard, sinewy bit of raw, that is, sun-dried, but uncooked, camel-meat for dinner at two p.m.; supper uncertain, perhaps some roasted acacia seeds: this is our bill of fare. These seeds are not bad, but very small and very hard; they are on bushes, not trees, and the natives use them roasted and pounded.

“20th. Got a pigeon; and some flour and water for breakfast. We can only allow ourselves a spoonful of flour each at a time, and it won’t last many days even at this rate.

“Killed a large camel for food at sunset. We would rather have killed a worse one, but this bull had, in the early part of our journey, got a very bad back, and was unable to work for a long time. . . .