he aid
of a quart pot and a tin dish I managed to get some sort of a bath;
but this is a luxury the traveller in these regions must in a great
measure learn to do without. My garments and person were so perfumed
with smashed ants, that I could almost believe I had been bathing in a
vinegar cask. It was useless to start away from here with all the
horses, without knowing how, or if any, rains had fallen out west. I
therefore despatched Mr. Tietkens and Jimmy to take a tour round to
all our former places. At twenty-five miles was the almost bare rocky
hill which I called par excellence the Cups, from the number of those
little stone indentures upon its surface, which I first saw on the
19th of October, this being the 29th of November. If no water was
there, I directed Mr. Tietkens then only to visit Elder's Creek and
return; for if there was none at the Cups, there would be but little
likelihood of any in other places.

Gibson and I had a most miserable day at the camp. The ants were
dreadful; the hot winds blew clouds of sandy dust all through and over
the place; the thermometer was at 102 degrees. We repaired several
pack-bags. A few mosquitoes for variety paid us persistent attentions
during the early part of the night; but their stings and bites were
delightful pleasures compared to the agonies inflicted on us by the
myriads of small black ants. Another hot wind and sand-dust day; still
sewing and repairing pack-bags to get them into something like order
and usefulness.

At one p.m. Mr. Tietkens returned from the west, and reported that the
whole country in that direction had been entirely unvisited by rains,
with the exception of the Cups, and there, out of several dozen rocky
indents, barely sufficient water for their three horses could be got.
Elder's Creek, the Cob tank, the Colonel's Range, Hughes's Creek, and
all the ranges lying between here and there, the way they returned,
were perfectly dry, not a drop of moisture having fallen in all that
region. Will it evermore be thus? Jupiter impluvius? Thermometer
to-day 106 degrees in shade. The water supply is so rapidly decreasing
that in two days it will be gone. This is certainly not a delightful
position to hold, indeed it is one of the most horrible of imaginable
encampments. The small water supply is distant about a mile from the
camp, and we have to carry it down in kegs on a horse, and often when
we go for it, we find the horses have just emptied and dirtie