D THE SAND.

Since this is one of the few attempts at rhyming that I have been guilty
of, I hope I may be excused for wishing to see it in print, for at the
time I was exceedingly proud of the composition. Ah! well, it served to
pass the time and afforded some amusement. Soon we had other matters to
think about, for on the 12th we found ourselves on the outskirts of
auriferous country and were lucky in reaching plenty of water. Being
lightly loaded we had made good marches, covering 103 miles from the last
water on May 8th, an average of twenty and a half miles per day.

From the 13th to the 21st we camped surrounded by hills, any one of which
might contain gold if only we could find it. Unremitting labours resulted
in nothing but a few colours here and there. We were now thirty miles to
the North-West of Mount Margaret (discovered and named by Forrest in 1869,
who on that journey reached a point some sixty miles further East than
that hill), and though we were the first, so far as I know, to prospect
this particular part of the district, it was reserved for subsequent
fossickers to find anything worth having.

Wandering about, pick in hand, one day I put up several turkeys from the
grass surrounding some granite rocks, and shortly after found their
watering-place, a nice little pool. The next day whilst Luck prospected I
returned to the pool with a gun, and, building a hide of bushes, waited
all day. Towards evening two fine emus came stalking along, and I shot
one. By the time I had him skinned and the legs cut off it was dark. A
most deceptive bird is an emu, for in reality he has but little meat on
his body. The legs, that is the thighs, are the only parts worth taking,
so shouldering these I started for camp a couple of miles off. It was
pretty late when I got back, and found Luck ringing a camel-bell violently
and frequently. He had been a bit anxious at my long absence, and had
taken a bell off one of the camels to guide me in case I was "bushed."
A party of two is too small for a journey that takes them far from
settlements for if anything happens to one, the other has little chance by
himself. The man left in camp does not know what to do--if he goes far
from home, there is the danger of the camp being robbed by natives,
therefore he hesitates to go in search of his mate, who possibly is in
sore need of help from an accident, or bushed, or speared--so many things
might happen. If one broke a limb, as he easi