tion. Stretching out before us
in lofty, unbroken outline, they presented the singular and romantic
appearance of massy battlements of masonry, supported by huge buttresses,
glittering in the morning sun which had now risen upon them, and made the
scene beautiful even amidst the dangers and anxieties of our situation."

Five days of slow, dragging toil passed, until, with the horses at their
last gasp, and the men baked and parched, they found relief in some
native wells amongst the sandhills, at a point where the cliffs receded
from the sea.

After resting for some days at this camp, Eyre, misled by a report he had
obtained from the natives, again moved forward, taking with him but a
small supply of water. When he had discovered the blunder, he had gone
forty miles, and over this weary distance the horses had to return. It
was one of those mishaps that helped so much to wear out his unfortunate
animals.

Trouble after trouble now added itself to the burden of the explorers.
Another five days had passed without water, and their only hopes rested
upon some sandhills ahead, seen from the sea by Flinders, and marked by
him upon his chart. Retreat was impossible, and with their horses failing
one after another, they toiled on, desperate and well-nigh hopeless.
Eyre's anxiety was increased by Baxter's growing despondency and
pessimistic view of the issue of their enterprise. They were now
travelling along the sea beach, firm and hard, and ominously marked with
wreckage. Their last drop of water had been consumed, and that morning
they had been collecting dew from the bushes with a sponge, as a last
resource. When they reached the sand-dunes, they were almost too weak to
search for a likely place to dig for water; but making a final effort,
they discovered a patch whence, at six feet, they obtained a supply of
water.

It was now that Eyre approached the grand crisis of his adventurous
journey. According to the chart compiled by Flinders, he had another long
succession of cliffs to encounter, and he knew that where these cliffs
came in and sternly fronted the ocean, he need hope for no relief. Should
this space be happily surmounted by a desperate effort, he hoped to reach
a kindlier country. Disaffection appeared in his small camp. Baxter was
always suggesting and even urging a return. Perhaps some shadow of his
tragic fate overhung his spirit. The native boys were ripe for desertion,
and two of them did desert, only to r