For several hours the poor horses had not tasted a drop, while they themselves had had barely sufficient to wet their lips. They were more likely to find it by going straight on than by turning either to the right hand or to the left. So on they went.
The day was drawing to a close, not a sign of water appeared, when suddenly Bendigo shouted, “Dare, dare!” and pointed to some trees which could be just seen in the horizon.
They pushed on, but on reaching the trees, the hollow in which water once had been was dry. A chorus of groans escaped the explorers. “On, on!” cried Paul.
“We must not despair, we can hold out a few hours longer.”
The moon got up, and, relieved from the heat of the sun, the explorers were better able to endure the want of water. Mile after mile they went on, their weary horses, however, moving but slowly. At length Paul cried out, “My beast seems to fancy that water is near; I feel him tugging at the rein.”
“So does mine,” said Harry.
Bruce gave a bark, signifying his satisfaction, and dashed on. A silver spot appeared ahead, lighted by the beams of the moon, which had now risen high in the sky. The horses galloped on, Bruce dashed forward, Mr Hayward seemed to revive. They reached a large water-hole! It was necessary to keep back the horses, however, lest they should rush in and stir up the mud. Paul and Harry dismounted, and while Bendigo took charge of their horses, they, unstrapping their pannikins, hurried down the bank. It was no easy matter to fill them, as they had to go down the bank, and then to wade through the mud to get to the water, which looked so bright at a distance.
“Take care that there are no leeches,” said Mr Hayward.
Paul had a piece of linen through which he strained the water from one pannikin to another, then handed it to Harry, who carried it to their tutor before he would touch any himself. Reggy was next served, then Harry, and Paul drank last. How delicious the liquid tasted.