25th of September, being
the sixteenth day from the water at the Boundary Dam, we travelled
twenty-seven miles, still on our course, through mallee and spinifex,
pines, casuarinas, and quandong-trees, and noticed for the first time
upon this expedition some very fine specimens of the Australian
grass-tree, Xanthorrhoea; the giant mallee were also numerous. The
latter give a most extraordinary appearance to the scenes they adorn,
for they cheat the eye of the traveller into the belief that he is
passing through tracts of alluvial soil, and gazing, upon the
water-indicating gum-trees. This night we reached a most abominable
encampment; there was nothing that the camels could eat, and the
ground was entirely covered with great bunches of spinifex. Before us,
and all along the western horizon, we had a black-looking and scrubby
rise of very high sandhills; each of us noticed its resemblance to
those sandhills which had confronted us to the north and east when at
Youldeh. By observation we found that we were upon the same latitude,
but had reached a point in longitude 500 miles to the west of it. It
is highly probable that no water exists in a straight line between the
two places. Shortly before evening, Mr. Young was in advance steering,
but he kept so close under the sun--it being now so near the equinox,
the sun set nearly west, and our course being 21 degrees south of
west--I had to go forward and tell him that he was not steering
rightly. Of course he became indignant, and saying, "Perhaps you'll
steer, then, if you don't think I can!" he handed me the compass. I
took it in silence and steered more southerly, in the proper direction
of our course; this led us over a long white ridge of sand, and
brought us to the hollow where, as I said before, we had such a
wretched encampment. I mention this as a circumstance attaches to it.
The fate of empires at times has hung upon a thread, and our fate now
hung upon my action. We had come 323 miles without having seen a drop
of water. There was silence and melancholy in the camp; and was it to
be wondered at if, in such a region and under such circumstances,
there was:--

"A load on each spirit, a cloud o'er each soul,
With eyes that could scan not, our destiny's scroll."

Every man seemed to turn his eyes on me. I was the great centre of
attraction; every action of mine was held to have some peculiar
meaning. I was continually asked night after night if we should get
wa