"Not a blessed fraction!" cried the Shadow, decanting the boiling tea from the billy into the enamelled cups. "Who says sugar? You, Emu? Well, there ain't none; have a try at saccharine, an' be happy." He gulped down his own portion hurriedly, then ran off to round up Fireworks, which was beginning to stray too far from his neighbours, and ten minutes later the expedition was once more on the move.

The next several days passed uneventfully; the same uninspiring desert sands prevailed, and the intense heat haze radiating from its shimmering surface affected the eyes of the travellers, causing them to quiver and blink painfully, while overhead the sun stared down from a cloudless sky. Not a trace of moisture was visible anywhere, certainly no water could exist amid these barren wastes, and all hoped most anxiously that a change in the monotonous landscape might soon take place.

"It's a pretty thirsty lookin' start we've made," said Mackay, when a week had elapsed, and they still struggled along ankle deep in the burning sands. Bob was walking by his side keeping an eager eye on what appeared to be a light cloud-patch on the far horizon. He had noticed it for some time, but was unwilling to mention his hopes in case they might be doomed to early disappointment. Now, however, he felt pretty sure that his eyes had not deceived him.

"There's a belt of timber straight ahead," he announced quietly, after Mackay had spoken. The elder man shifted his gaze somewhat, and with puckered eyes surveyed the slight break on the horizon's even curve.

"You're quite richt, Bob," he remarked, with a sigh of relief. "I've been steerin' by the shadow o' the sun across the camels, an' I've almost mesmerized mysel', I think, or I should have seen those trees earlier. It's a hard course for a bushman, Bob, that fractional nor'-easter you gave me."

Emu Bill and Never Never Dave had by this time found it necessary to assist in pulling the camels through the sand. Jack, leading Misery, had not much difficulty with his charge, for that wiry animal plodded steadily onward with ponderous movement despite all obstacles, but Fireworks was by no means as energetic as he once was, and the Shadow anathematized him roundly as he, with bent shoulders, strained at the nose-rope of the reluctant beast, a proceeding which the two bushmen had soon to emulate. Now, when these weary individuals heard of the impending change in the land surface, they gave vent to their joy in sundry whoops of delight.

"It looks likely country for water, Mac," cried Never Never, as they drew nearer, and could plainly distinguish the feathery scrub in their course. The sand too as they advanced, hardened considerably, and here and there great dioritic blows reared their heads above the plain.

"You're right there, Dave," responded Mackay, after a while, "if there's been any rain in the district for the last year or two we ought to find a rock hole—Hillo! Easy boys, and get your rifles ready. I see a wheen niggers dodgin' aboot among the scrub."

"Nigs!" echoed Emu Bill and Never Never almost with one voice. There was an inflection of decided pleasure in the exclamation, as if these two had longed for a skirmish to ease the routine of their journey. Mackay himself seemed in no way displeased, yet he took care to impress caution on his impetuous associates. "A spear or boomerang can kill as well's a bullet," he warned, while each man examined his rifle. "Now, Jack, don't be so anxious to get forrit, an' keep on the lee side o' Misery an' no' at his head when we get near."

As yet Bob was unable to distinguish any aborigines among the sparse scrub, but as they continued their wary advance he soon perceived several dusky forms crouching amid the timber, and his heart gave a bound when the savage creatures suddenly stood up and united in a shrill yell of defiance. He had never dreamt that these wild denizens of the bush could be so hideous; they seemed more ape than man, their faces were covered by long tangling hair black as jet, and only white gleaming eyes were visible; their bodies were repulsively scarred and painted. This much Bob had time to notice, then a hail of spears rustled out from the scrub, fell short, and buried their barbed tips in the sand at their feet. And now the bush seemed alive with blacks; uncouth forms sprang from the side of each tiny sapling where they had been standing motionless, and harsh guttural screams filled the air.

"They're a bit more numerous than I thought," muttered Mackay, calling a halt, "an' I've an idea that if we dinna rush them pretty quick, they'll rush us. Now, Jack, swing Misery round an' let him stand, then grab your rifle." Jack obeyed promptly, and at that moment another shower of spears hurtled overhead.

"By gum!" growled Never Never, "they'll get our range next try."

"They're comin' for us now, I reckon!" cried the Shadow, and of that there could be no doubt; the shrieking horde had evidently decided to exterminate the invaders of their domain without further delay. On they came, brandishing their waddies and boomerangs, a compact mass of blood-thirsty black fury.

"Now, boys!" roared Mackay, "Aim low and stop them." A thunderous discharge followed his words, and six rifles spat out their leaden challenge to the foe. The wonderful din created by the exploding cordite apparently stupefied the blacks for a moment; they ceased their wild rush, and gazed with astonishment at those of their number who had fallen. Despite Mackay's oft-repeated animosity towards the aborigines in general, he could not countenance wholesale slaughter. "They're a poor lot, boys," said he; yet even while he commiserated with them the savages joined in another determined rush. There must have been over twenty of them, and so impetuously did they come that they were within twenty yards of the white defenders before a second volley made them hesitate, and even now they did not all stop; a few stalwart warriors kept on their mad course, and hurled themselves almost upon the reeking rifle muzzles. If the attack had been made in full force things would have gone hard with the expedition. As it was, however, the little group had no difficulty in beating back the frenzied band. The Shadow and Jack were in their element; they little recked of danger when plying their heated weapons, though the vengeful club of one of the natives had missed Jack's head by little more than a hair's breadth, and the Shadow's face had been severely gashed by a flying boomerang. Bob could not fail to observe how serious matters would have been had the natives made their onrush in skirmishing order; their close blocked formation made it impossible for even the most random shots to miss their billet, and now as the savage and discomfited creatures sullenly withdrew, they dragged with them many maimed and wounded comrades.

"I can't understand why the beggars are so stupid," said Bob, watching the last of them disappear in the distance.

"Ye may learn more o' their tactics before our journey is finished," Mackay observed quietly; "at the same time, there is a wonderful difference among the tribes, an' that is where the explorer's danger lies. He may judge from a nomadic spiritless lot which he may chance to meet that a' natives are the same, and he may gie his life for the mistake later on."

By this time the team was again on the move, and within a few minutes a halt was made in the densest part of the scrub, while Never Never and Emu Bill searched around for water. But the search was vain, no welcome spring or rock-hole could be found, and a heavy gloom began to affect the spirits of the party whose hopes had been raised so high only to be thus rudely dashed. Even Mackay, usually most cheerful in times of stress and danger, looked grave as he reflected upon their somewhat unenviable position. He knew what the others had not calculated upon. He knew that the camels were already at their last extremity of endurance; accustomed as they had been while at Golden Flat to drink every few days, they had not absorbed their full supply before starting. Misery alone, hardened veteran of many desert journeys that he was, had drunk his fill, and now his great reserve of strength showed plainly over the other beasts.

"I reckon them nigs had a mighty cheek to make such a howlin' fight for nothin'," complained the Shadow. "One would have thought they was protectin' a lake o' cool crystal water——"

"Slow up on that, Shad, or I'll squelch ye wi' an empty water-bag," warned Emu Bill, who could not stand reference to such an unlimited supply of the precious fluid at this moment.

"There must be water about, all the same," said Bob. "These natives, I suppose, get thirsty, like other people. I'm off to have a look round myself," and he sped away.

"Be vera careful, Bob, be careful——"

But Bob was already out of earshot, pursuing a dogged course eastward in the wake of the retreating blacks. In his hand he grasped a heavy Colt revolver, which he had extricated from the holster on his belt. A wild idea had seized him; he meant, if possible, to capture one of the blacks and make him disclose the treasure they had guarded so fiercely. It was a foolhardy plan which had so hastily formulated in his brain, and in his calmer moments Bob would have been quick to realize what a desperate venture was that which he had now so lightly undertaken. But the urgent necessity of finding water was powerfully impressed upon him, and caution for the time being was thrown to the winds. Eagerly he rushed along, and in a few minutes had passed out of sight of his companions; then suddenly two ebony-skinned warriors barred his path; he had blundered right on to them by the merest accident. At a glance he saw that they were armed with waddies and boomerangs only, their spears having probably been discharged in the fray from which they had fled. Yet a waddie at close quarters is no mean weapon, and Bob pulled himself up promptly, and with a stern smile levelled his revolver. His astonishment was great when, with a curious gurgle of mingled surprise and fear, the dusky twain dropped their weapons and incontinently fled before him. And now Bob's heart was filled with wrath because of the cowardice of the pair. Had they only waited and surrendered quietly to his request—though how he could have made them understand his wishes he did not stop to think—all might have been well. With scarce a pause he gave chase, covering the ground in long impetuous strides, but it soon became evident that unless something unforeseen occurred to check the flight of the fugitives, he could never hope to overtake them. On they sped, clearing the sand in great bounds, even stopping at intervals to gaze back at their pursuer. Bob's chagrin was deep, and he sent one or two revolver bullets crashing after the disappearing couple which had the effect of making them run the faster, while far in the rear the excited cries of his anxious comrades showed that they were now concerning themselves over his prolonged absence.

Yet the ardour of the pursuit had taken possession of Bob; with a mighty effort he managed to quicken his pace so that he actually drew up considerably on the fleet-footed pair—scarce fifty yards divided them. "Another spurt and I've got them," thought Bob, and he clenched his teeth and strove boldly in the attempt. Now thirty yards only separated them, now twenty, now ten. Bob chuckled grimly to himself at the prospect of after all being successful in the chase, and stretched out his hand, then in an instant the hitherto level course came to an abrupt stop, a layer of branches and spinifex grass spread right across the track. The blacks had cleared it at a leap, but before Bob had time to prepare for a spring he had staggered into the midst of the cut brushwood, and at once felt himself sinking down into space. It all occurred in a second or so. He clutched wildly at the pigmy branches as he descended through them, but they broke in his hands, and with a rush and a plunge he fell downwards into an unknown depth.

When he recovered himself, about a minute later, he became aware that he was standing, considerably shaken and bruised, waist deep in some semi-solid fluid at the bottom of a natural shaft, which he mentally calculated to be at least twenty feet deep. He had found water for a surety, and now would have given much to get out of its slimy embrace, but the steep dioritic walls were quite unscalable. Bob was hopelessly a prisoner. Then did he blame himself most bitterly for his mistaken ardour and lack of perception. The wily natives had but pretended to be overcome at the last wild rush so as to lead him directly over the subterranean trap.

"Mackay was certainly right," he muttered. "Their cunning is nothing short of devilish; and after being told of that, here I go like a fool and prove it for myself."

He had little time, however, for unprofitable moralizings, and he peered up and around his strange prison-house with anxious eyes, yet his surroundings were of so murky a nature that he could only vaguely guess the description of the trap into which he had fallen. His gaze was instinctively directed toward the gaping hole in the brushwood through which he had fallen, though what he expected to see there he did not very well know. But he now realized the nature of the blacks too fully to believe for a moment that they intended to leave him to his fate without further molestation.

"Why, the water is bad enough as it is," he said, with a forced attempt at pleasantry. "They'll certainly come to fish me out before long."

He had not been in his awkward predicament many minutes when a black grinning face stared down at him. Bob shuddered and crouched closer to the damp rocks; he was half prepared for a stone to be thrown or a spear to be poked tantalizingly in his direction, but no such proceedings were taken. The demoniacally leering face continued to look down at him without movement for several seconds, when it was joined by another equally hideous; they belonged to the two savages who had led him such an unfortunate chase. They had now returned to view their victim after having probably given the alarm to their fellows. Bob groaned in dismay, but returned their gaze with stoical complacency, having not yet fully comprehended his true position.

At length, however, his strange gaolers, with many guttural exclamations, began to cover up the tell-tale gap in the layer of furze; then their prisoner's senses returned to him with a rush, and his emotions almost overwhelmed him. The blacks surely meant to cover up the hole so that his companions might not find him, and when they would depart after vain searchings, he would be left to the tender mercies of the "stupid" natives he had so commiserated! In truth Bob's cup of bitterness was filled to overflowing.

But he decided, nevertheless, to do his best to prevent the success of their scheme. His revolver was still dry, for he had by some odd instinct clung to it tenaciously despite his demoralizing downfall, and now he became aware for the first time that he held it in his hand. He fired two shots upwards in rapid succession. Operations ceased on the instant, and Bob felt comforted. He knew that Mackay would soon seek him out if any clue as to his whereabouts was left. His rejoicings, however, were premature, and very speedily checked. As he gazed at the sky through the gap which gave him light, he noticed the aperture slowly yet surely grow narrower and narrower. The blacks were pushing the superfluous brush over the opening by the aid of long sticks! Bob shouted with the full force of his lungs and discharged the remaining shots in his revolver upwards, but only a hoarse cackle of satisfaction from the natives answered his attempts at communication with the outside world, and soon—as the last glimpse of sky was shut out—he was enveloped in absolute darkness.

"Well, I assuredly could not have landed myself in a worse fix if I had tried," he soliloquized with wonderful calm. "Here I am, shut up in a twenty-feet water-hole in the middle of the Australian desert and surrounded by hostile savages. That's pretty good for a start—and, I'm afraid, for a finish too." He continued his unpleasant musings, while he carefully reloaded his revolver. Then he wondered what his companions would do when he failed to appear, and a ray of hope flashed across his sorely tried brain. Mackay and Emu Bill were expert bushmen, and indeed so was Never Never Dave. He had often heard them speak of tracking up clues of even the very flimsiest nature; might they not, after all, be able to follow the slight impressions left by his footsteps on the sandy gravel?... What a cruel irony of Fate to plunge him headlong into what he most desired to find—water. Had he been caught in a sand-hole he would not have felt so much aggrieved; but water, of all things! While thinking in this strain, he remembered that, though he had been extremely thirsty all day, he had not yet tasted of his find. But his thirst had effectually gone from him, and he abhorred the slimy touch of the fluid which encircled his limbs. Suddenly he felt some huge creature brush against his knee, and then climb up against him with many a wriggle and splutter. What new horror was this? Bob was anything but timid in temperament, yet he shivered at the sinuous contact of this unknown thing, and endeavoured frantically to shake it off, but it only clung the tighter.

Some little time now elapsed, to Bob it seemed like half an hour, for the moments dragged like ages, though five minutes would have been a nearer estimate. Then a subdued muttering was heard above, and he expected every instant to see more hideous faces grinning at him through the bushy covering. He guessed that the whole tribe had now arrived to witness his plight; and he was not far wrong, for nearly all the warriors whose powers of locomotion had not been interfered with earlier in the day had assembled overhead. The weary sojourner in the depths kept his gaze fixed on the roof of the shaft where one or two gleams of light filtered through the last unevenly laid scrub; his eyes had by this time grown accustomed to the gloom of his environment, and while he watched he carefully cocked his revolver, and adjusted it to fire on the hair trigger, so that his aim might not be disturbed at a critical juncture. Soon a gaunt black hand drew aside the branches; Bob's haste was his own undoing. Had he waited long enough the oily-skinned savage might have let in the light more fully, but as it was he fired, and a howl of pain told him he had not fired in vain; but the brushwood fell back into position, and his prison was left as dark as ever. He now made an effort to climb up the walls of the dank and evil-smelling pit in which he was immured; but the flinty formations exposed were dripping with moisture, and slippery, and offered no place for foothold. Bob would have given much then for a match, there were a few in the pockets of his nether garments, but they were well submerged beneath the level of the water, and consequently useless. The floundering animal that had climbed against his legs next aroused his curiosity; he could not imagine what sort of creature it might be, and his courage was not sufficient to prompt his making a practical investigation as to its form or temper with his hand, which, as it afterwards turned out, was just as well for the hand. Another lull ensued, and he began to be alarmed at the silence of his dusky gaolers. Were they premeditating some sudden and novel doom for himself, or had they indeed abandoned him to die in this horrible water-trap? And where were his companions all the time? To relieve the monotony he fired two more shots upwards at random and was rejoiced to hear another yell of pain from outside, but a retaliation in the shape of a fusillade of stones came crashing down, missing him by a few inches only. Again he fired, and again. Bob had grown desperate, he did not much care what form the reply of the natives would take, but now he heard an answering shot in the distance, while near at hand the Shadow's well-known voice hilloed out lustily. There now appeared to be considerable agitation among the blacks above; their feet pattered on the sand confusedly, and then a shrill yell intimated to Bob clearly enough that his tormentors had taken flight.

He was about to congratulate himself heartily on escaping so opportunely from a distinctly awkward predicament, when he heard the sand crunch under hurrying footsteps, and the Shadow, now close above, commenced to shout his name. He was evidently bent on following the retreating natives, for he halted not a moment, but kept up his mad rush forward. Before the horrified prisoner below could raise an alarm, he had jumped impetuously into the snare which had already done its work so well, and a moment later he tumbled down heavily head over heels by Bob's side. The spray he threw up almost blinded Bob, and the fetid odours that were thus again let loose, caused him to gasp wildly. His comrade in misfortune struggled to his feet with eloquent maledictions, and his amazement when he recognized Bob—the light was now streaming down through the gap he had made—was very genuine indeed.

"What in thunder is you doing here?" he cried.

Bob considered the question rather superfluous under the circumstances.

"Me? Oh, I'm fishing!" he replied laconically.

The Shadow ceased his flow of language for a moment, and examined the walls of his gloomy habitation with interest. It did not take him long to grasp the situation.

"Hang it, that was a tidy trick to play on a peaceable sort o' cuss like me. They've bagged the pair of us, an' if we'd had the savvy o' a mosquito, we didn't oughter be here," he snorted in extreme disgust.

"It is a bit humiliating," admitted Bob, not at all displeased that the wonderfully acute Shadow had blundered into the trap as easily as himself. It tended to soothe his wounded feelings in no little degree. "But all the same," he added brightly, "we've found water, and that's worth some inconvenience, isn't it?"

The Shadow grunted something unintelligible and began to prospect in the almost viscous fluid with both hands.

"There's some slimy crawler shoved up against me," he growled, "an' I reckon I'm goin' to break his little back, so that he won't have no appetite to feed on us afterwards." He groped around viciously.

"I have had a good half hour of its company, whatever it is," remarked Bob. "But the splash you made frightened him off for a bit. But hold hard! Shadow, hold hard, man! Don't you see what it is?"

Bob's eyes, more accustomed to the dull environment than his companion's, had now detected an unusually large-sized iguana struggling in the water; it had apparently fallen in from above, as they had done, and its snapping jaws looked decidedly dangerous. The Shadow ceased his investigations with remarkable celerity, then lifted up his voice in fluent condemnation of all sorts and conditions of crawling creatures. When he had exhausted his store of expletives, he made a vain effort to climb the oozy walls of the cavern, and succeeded only in getting a fresh douche for his pains.

"I wonder who'll come first," he murmured feebly, "Mackay or them savages? I reckon we shid know pretty sudden."

They were not left much longer in doubt. The report of Mackay's powerful rifle broke the silence, they recognized it by the heavy charge of powder it fired and the series of shrill yells which answered it showed that the natives were still in the vicinity. Anon the anxious pair heard the scrub break before the advance of some hurrying person, and the crunch, crunch of feet in the sand.

"Go back and mind the camels, Jack," they heard Mackay's decisive voice ring out. "I'll find Bob, if he's above ground, an' that reckless young rascal o' a Shadow too."

"But we ain't above ground!" roared the last-named youth, forgetting that his voice would be absorbed in the echoes of the shaft before it reached the surface. On came the stalwart bushman, and the fierce invective against the blacks in general, and these savages in particular, which issued from his lips as he ran, came as a revelation to Bob, who had never heard his friend so moved.

In a few moments he had reached the vicinity of the pit wherein the adventurous pair were entombed, and Bob made ready to signal once more with his revolver, but such action was unnecessary. The experienced eye of Mackay had quickly noticed the cut brushwood, and he bore down towards it without hesitation. Then, thrusting his head through the opening in the bushy covering, he surveyed the captives below with a grim smile of amusement. "So this is where you are, my lads," said he. His relief was so evident that Bob and the Shadow felt even more ashamed because of the trouble they had caused than there was any need for. Then Bob found his speech.

"There's water here," he cried.

"Water!" Mackay's ruddy features positively glowed with pleasure. "Well, well, I shouldna wonder but what you've taken the only means o' finding it, an' though it was a novel sort o' method, an' just a trifle dangerous, we canna be too thankful that it has succeeded. Now, you'll hae to content yoursel's a bit longer while I see aboot gettin' a rope to pu' ye up——"

"Don't go away, boss!" howled the Shadow. "Them yelpin' baboons'll be back in two shakes if ye does." But Mackay had no intention of going away; he proceeded to signal with his rifle, and soon the entire camp, camels and all, arrived in answer to his call. Great was the hilarity of Jack and the two bushmen when they learned of the strange position in which Bob and the Shadow had been found; but their joy was real indeed that water had been discovered, after all, and when they raised their dripping comrades to the surface they embarrassed them more by their expressions of gratitude than by their display of what under the circumstances would surely have been but a pardonable levity.

Now came the tedious process of drawing water for the camels to drink, and also for refilling the almost dry canvas bags which Remorse carried. For the latter purpose the thick sand-impregnated fluid was laboriously filtered through a sheet of calico, so that a fair amount of its solid matter was eliminated. But it was not the sediment that was the most objectionable feature of the liquid; it simply stank with vile odours, so that Emu Bill and Never Never Dave, who had undertaken the duty of hauling up the buckets, had anything but a pleasant time while they were so engaged. The boys marvelled at the extraordinary capacity of the camels for the uninviting solution; between them they managed to absorb well over a hundred gallons, and when at length they were satisfied, very little save mud remained at the bottom of the shaft.

"I would never have believed these natives capable of such a smart trick as that they played on me," said Bob, who had been unusually silent since his rescue. "Imagine the forethought of the beggars in covering up that confounded hole, and then luring me directly on to it!"

"They're no' so deficient in gumption as you at first considered, Bob, my lad," answered Mackay, with a twinkle in his eye. "However, I don't think they covered up the shaft exactly for your benefit. Just look——" He kicked a few of the branches aside and drew Bob's attention to their wholly sapless nature. "These same bits o' twigs have done duty for many a long day. The natives cover the water principally to prevent evaporation as much as possible, but also to keep all sorts o' animals an' reptiles from fallin' into it an' so spoilin' the flavour. The water has vera likely lain in that rock-hole for years, an' only such judicious economy on their part has left us enough for our needs."

"I reckon they'll have to shift their lodgings pretty soon," laughed the Shadow, "for they'll have a pretty hard job gettin' a drink when we leave, an' the next man that does a dive into the reservoir as Bob an' me did, shid strike something hard at the bottom."

The afternoon was already far advanced, but when Never Never Dave suggested that they should camp where they were until morning, Mackay would not hear of such a proceeding.

"We'll find trouble soon enough without lookin' for it, Dave," said he, "an' if there's one thing I dislike it's camping near a crowd o' niggers in the night time. They would try to swipe us out before morning, for the miserable vermin get vera brave after sundown. No, boys, we'll head out right now for Fortunate Spring. Fetch out the compass, Jack, an' let me have a look at that course again. The sun has shifted a bit since I worked out the correct shadow to steer by."

Immediately afterwards Misery's bell began to chime, and the camel team moved on its weary way.

CHAPTER XI The Finding of Fortunate Spring

For several days after leaving the scene of Bob's adventure the travellers struggled over a most disheartening tract of country. The timber belt amid which they had discovered water proved to be but a narrow strip, extending down from the north-west; it evidently marked the course of an ancient river-bed, for immediately beyond its scope the sullen desert appeared bare of all vegetation, save for occasional clumps of saltbush and tufts of spinifex grass. Over this barren waste they forced their dogged course, starting at sunrise and halting towards noon, when the heat became too terribly oppressive both for man and beast; then in the evening they would continue the journey, sometimes marching late into the night. It was well for them that water had been found so opportunely, for assuredly none promised in the arid sands they were now encountering. The fifth day, however, brought with it the hope of better things. Away to the east the landscape took on a much more broken aspect, a feature which gradually extended right across the line of travel. Great dry gullies, starting from apparent nothingness, tore up the plain in all directions, and giant boulders of desert sandstone outcropped in prodigal profusion. And this drastic change in the land surface cheered the wanderers mightily, for though in itself it offered greater obstacles to progress than the weary sand-flats, it relieved the eyes, which had become so weary of gazing at the seemingly everlasting monotonous desert, and uplifted their hearts strangely.

Another day, and several mouldering ridges surrounded them; mere hillocks of sand they were, yet, rising as they did abruptly from an even expanse, they appeared in the distance as precipitous mountain steeps, and it was hard to believe that their grandeur would fade away at a closer view. Within these guarding barriers, a beautiful white tableland lay spread, so white and pure that it glittered like marble in the sun's rays. The sight was a dazzlingly splendid one, and Jack, who had been the first to climb the gentle elevation hiding the valley from the south, had exclaimed in delight—

"What a huge lake we are coming to; it looks like a great frosted Christmas card!"

"Lake!" Mackay had answered, almost sorrowfully. "Ay, it's a lake that will give us a maist desperate thirst, instead o' quenching what we've got."

And soon the truth of this remark was borne painfully on them all, for the lake was a mass of crusted and crystallized salt, that crushed like tinder beneath their feet and showered over the heads of the voyagers in sparkling clouds of finest dust. It filled their ears and eyes and nostrils; they inhaled the minute grains with every breath; it covered their tattered clothing in a gauzy film of white.

"Well, I'm blest!" ejaculated Emu Bill, "if this ain't the cruellest joke to play on a thirsty sinner, an' nary a drink within hundreds o' miles!"

"Shut up, Bill, an' ye won't swallow so much of it," retorted Never Never Dave, unsympathetically. Then he was moved to further speech. "Bless yer soul! It's a whole brewery we'll want afore we gets through this, I'm thinking."

"I had an idea," observed Mackay, blandly, "that you two had joined the temperance party a week or so before we left, so as to get accustomed to a bit o' a drought."

"Temperance party!" stormed the unusually loquacious Never Never, "I reckon this here circus would break up any anti-thirst campaign in less'n five minutes."

He would have continued, but his companion sternly rebuked him by casting at him the words with which he had himself been silenced. After that not a word was spoken for fully ten minutes, and the camel team staggered blindly on, floundering through intervening salt wreaths like ships in a heavy sea. The lake appeared to be nearly six miles in length, which meant that at least two hours would be spent in the crossing, for their rate of travel seldom exceeded three miles an hour, and was more often considerably less. In that time, if each man satisfied his craving for water from their very limited store, there would be but little left, and by Bob's calculations they were yet about thirty miles from the location of Fortunate Spring. But though each of the little party suffered severely, not one of them made other than jocular mention of his longing, and Mackay felt proud of the fortitude and reserve they displayed. He was especially concerned for Bob and Jack, for they, not having been hardened to such experiences, must have felt the influence of their salt bath most keenly; but if they were in any way incommoded they showed no sign. Bob walked by Mackay's side, talking at intervals concerning the probable geological history of interior Australia—a subject of endless interest to him. Jack and the Shadow strode at Misery's head, for now Fireworks needed no guiding hand at his nose-rope, but followed submissively in the rear of Repentance, and from snatches of their conversation, which floated to Mackay's ears, he gathered that Jack was giving his Australian comrade a description of the snows and frosts of the old country as a set-off to the blazing heat they were now experiencing.

"Yes, I reckon I'll go home with you," the Shadow was saying. "It must be a grand country, wi' no snakes nor centipedes nor other crawlers, an' nary muskittie to nibble you in your sleep."

Bob laughed. "I'm afraid the confined spaces at home would hardly suit him after this," he said. "I don't think I could stand the nature of things on the other side myself now."

"Because you're a born wanderer, Bob," smiled Mackay; "an' the world itself will soon be too small for you."

At last the end of the salt lake was reached, and cheerfully a path was forced over the encircling ridges, for all had high hopes of what might lie beyond. But disappointment again was their portion: the grim, unbroken desert stretched before them in all its hideous dreariness; the land of beau desire had not yet come.

"I remember well," said Mackay, "that Fortunate Spring was in a pretty bare sort o' country, but it certainly wasna as bad as this, although we had a hard tussle before we came to it."

On, on, they struggled; but, if anything, their course became more difficult as they proceeded. On the following morning a gentle wavy outline against the sky in the northerly distance warned them of some impending change, but by this time the members of the expedition had become spied to their comfortless lot, and scarce dared hope for an improvement until they neared the portals of their goal, their shadowy land of El Dorado.

Gradually the sinuous curves on the horizon loomed up plainer to the view, and lo! as they crested an intervening sand hillock, a strange sight met their gaze. As far as the eye could reach west or north, a sea of undulating sand ridges appeared, rolling down like gigantic breakers from the dim north-west, the mighty valleys between each swelling sand-wave being over a hundred yards apart and fully thirty feet deep. Capping these wonderful billows regular rows of saltbush and spinifex, so regularly spread, indeed, that in the rosy morning light the whole scene was like some Brobdingnagian field, with furrows bearing luxurious vegetation.

"I reckon we has struck the land o' Goschen at last," said the Shadow, joyously.

"It does look pretty," Jack allowed hesitatingly, as they stood to take in the view, and waited for the others to come up. Indeed, so unaccustomed had they grown to seeing such close array of even the wiry desert growths that for the moment all imagined they looked upon a wildering forest. The saltbush was by the fantasy of mirage exalted to lordly proportions, and the spiky spinifex patches drooped in the sun's rays like the spreading fronds of the stately palm.

Mackay dispelled the illusion; he of all the party seemed ill at ease.

"I didna think the sand-waves extended so far back," he muttered, half to himself. Then he added, aloud, "It's no' a land o' promise you're lookin' at, boys; it's a deceiving land o' misery an' dispair, where many a good man has lost his life."

"But what about the beautiful trees and shrubs?" asked Bob, in wonderment. "They seem to stretch back for miles and miles."

"It's only another case where distance lends enchantment, as the poet says, my lad. Your trees are only saltbush, and instead o' growin' closely, there's over fifty yards between each o' them; it's those behind that fill in the gaps. The eye can never understand the perspective o' this country, the air is so clear that distant objects almost blend wi' what is close at hand."

He spoke truly. When they forced their way at a difficult angle across the vast undulations, they discovered to their sorrow that only the sparsest of vegetation found root on the hill crests, while the long interstices were absolutely barren. Not only this, but the sand on the inclines and declivities was so loosely packed that the camels sank to the knees in their strenuous efforts to scale them, and had to be pulled over the barring obstacles by sheer force.

"A day of this will just about finish Remorse," said Mackay, noting how that meek yet willing animal was labouring under its load. "I think, Bob, we'd better keep in the trough o' these confounded waves until we run oot o' them, I ken we must be near the edge as it is, for I mind that Fortunate Spring was a good day's travel past their eastern limit. That was why the chief called it by that name. We were vera nearly lost on those same ridges; we didna find a drop o' water for over a hundred miles, and we were just about dead beat when we came upon it."

"How far do they run towards the north?" questioned Bob.

"Well, Carnegie, who was one o' the finest explorers that ever handled a sextant, calculated they covered nearly three hundred miles o' West Australia. What their area is God only knows, yet it must be over fifty thousand square miles."

"I should think this would be nearly as bad as the Sahara," said Jack, as he tugged at Misery's rope. "I haven't seen a drop of water since we started, unless that which Bob fell into."

"The Sahara?" echoed Mackay. "Why, we wouldn't ca' it a desert at all. It's only because it's so near the old country that it is considered to be anything extraordinary. This country, Jack, wouldna be an explorer's preserve if it contained as much water as the Sahara. It would be overrun in every direction by gold-miners."

Then Jack was silent, marvelling greatly that in his earlier youth at school he had learned so little concerning the vast sandy wastes of Australia. Soon, as they kept on their altered course, the retarding undulations began to grow less and less high, and by late afternoon they had merged into the monotonous plains, now welcome indeed to the travellers after their encounter with the formidable sand-ridges. But their progress that day had barely totalled ten miles, and the camels were well-nigh exhausted after their extreme exertions. The poor brutes had had a severe experience from the beginning, and the rough usage was telling heavily upon their strength. That night they could scarcely muster up sufficient spirit to chew their usual meal of saltbush tips, and, after a few weak efforts, Remorse and Repentance lay down in the sand, while Misery and Fireworks gazed at the little group around the camp-fire with mute, appealing eyes.

"I hope we don't have any trouble finding that spring," said Mackay, anxiously, and instinctively they all turned to Bob with a questioning look. The young navigator winced as he took out his notebook and hurriedly checked his previous calculations.

"We were in latitude 28° 24´ 7´´ at noon to-day," he said quietly; "that should make us about seven miles only from the location of Fortunate Spring, allowing we made five miles since lunch."

"But the longitude, Bob?" asked Mackay. "How do we stand for that?"

Bob again examined his log-book. "I have it marked at 125° 11´ 17´´," he answered, "but we came a good bit easterly since that. I'll try it again in the morning, though I think we're almost on the correct line now, and should hit the Spring by going due north."

He handed the book to Mackay, who glanced at the figures and mentally checked the simpler calculations, but he did not ask for Bob's table of logarithms, and the young man felt satisfied. Bob, indeed, was sure of his positions; they had been worked out with painful exactitude, but he could not help feeling anxious about the morrow. The country in the vicinity seemed so utterly arid and barren. Could the original figures he received be correct? Might not possibly some mistake have crept into Bentley's estimates? He shuddered at the thought, then was immediately sorry for the passing doubt. Who was he who dared question the accuracy of an old and tried explorer's chart? Yet Bob went to sleep that night feeling vaguely uneasy, and by early sunrise he was up taking altitudes, Jack and the Shadow attending him to mark the time of his observations. It was nearly nine o'clock before they were ready to move out that morning; the camels had for a long time refused to be loaded, and when loaded they could not be prevailed upon to arise to their feet, until forced to do so by the necessarily cruel expedient of lighting fires under their noses.

"That's nothing, Jack," Mackay said with a laugh, for he had noticed the look of pain on the boy's face. "They get up long before they're hurt; their hide is like leather, you know, and camels are vera often stubborn and annoying when there's really no occasion for it."

But he knew well that the poor animals were not refractory without reason on this morning, though he endeavoured to make light of the fact. Wearily the heavily laden beasts trudged along, and when the first hour passed, and the sand showed signs of hardening, the Shadow made a valiant effort to infuse life into their hulking movements by blowing at his long-unused mouth-organ vociferously, and making the air resound with discordant notes, for his cracked lips could ill glide along the reeds with any degree of certainty. Bob, who was striding along well in advance, smiled as he heard the concert thus let loose, and he smiled the more when the dismal voices of Emu Bill and Never Never Dave were added to the chorus; and, looking back, he observed these two worthies prancing on with martial steps, though certainly not with martial grace, for their bodies were bent as they pulled their reluctant charges onwards, and their feet, notwithstanding their jaunty uplifting, went down almost in the same place. And Mackay, looking back at the perspiring musician, nodded encouragingly, much to that alert youth's amazement, for he had expected but a rude check as a reward for his labours. Not only did he thus ostensibly appreciate the lively music, but he joined in with his comrades lustily in their vocal exercises; and in this way the labouring train progressed, and almost unnoticeably a thin, straggling array of mallee and mulga shrubs began to dot the hardening sand surface, a slight dip in the land had obscured them from earlier view. By eleven o'clock the sand had merged into the longed-for iron-pebble strewn plains, and now the scrub was comparatively abundant all around, and the tough, wiry grasses which the camels loved appeared in greater profusion. Yet no signs of Fortunate Spring.

"It can't be far off now," said Bob, hopefully. "I'd better fix our position again before we go further, in case we might pass it."

"And that would be easily done, my lad," spoke Mackay. "I remember well that the water was in a mallee flat, just scrubby country like this, but there was no kind o' landmark except a fair-sized lime tree which grew beside it, an' I canna see any lime trees about here."

"I'll have another shot at the sun," decided Bob, and at once the team came to a halt, while Jack hastily unstrapped the sextant and chronometer from Misery's back.

A few minutes more and Bob had worked out the necessary calculation.

"I make the latitude come out exactly," he said gravely.

"Try again, Bob; try again," urged Mackay.

With sinking heart Bob once more levelled his sextant; the horizon was easily discernible through the scraggy bush, and the flat itself was level as could be.

"I find the latitude reading correct," he repeated, with bloodless lips; "and the longitude," he added, after a pause, "is the same as it was this morning, the same as is marked on my chart over the location of the Spring."

"We'll soon find it, if it is near abouts," cried Emu Bill, cheerily. "Don't fret, Bob, them springs have a habit of getting lost at times. Come on, Never Never, come an' help me to smell it out wi' that tender nose o' yours."

And they rushed off into the bush towards the west. The Shadow and Jack started to follow, but Mackay recalled them.

"You two had better look around due north," he said, "and I'll tackle the east myself. Now don't go further than a mile, an' signal wi' a revolver-shot if ye find anything."

Without a word they departed on their quest, and Mackay and Bob were left alone. Calmly the elder man interrogated the lad, who was standing in an attitude of deepest dejection, the sextant hanging loosely in his hand.

"And is there no room for a mistake in any o' your figures, Bob?"

"None, none, that I can imagine. I have been particularly careful——"

Bob could not finish his sentence, a flood of emotion swept over him, and he sat down in the sand and covered his face with his hands.

"Why, my laddie, ye mustn't blame yoursel' for no error o' yours," spoke Mackay, kindly, gazing at the despondent youth with a strange light in his keen grey eyes. "Brace yoursel' up, Bob; we'll likely find the spring at no great distance, an' if we don't, well—we'll look for another one if the camels stand by us."

He hurried away into the eastward scrub. Bob arose and gazed after him with quivering eyelids.

"Yes," he murmured brokenly, "I have brought you all to your death, and I can do nothing now to save.... I know the error is not mine, but I cannot and will not blame a dead man.... I wonder what can possibly be wrong."

He shook his head in utter hopelessness, then he glanced at the sextant, lying as he had left it, half buried in the sand. He took it up and brushed the silvered arc carefully with the ragged sleeve of his shirt, and was preparing to place it in its case when a new idea seemed to strike him. He grasped the instrument with a firmer grip and stood erect, a new light, a light of gladness shining in his eyes.

"It's strange I never thought of it before," he said aloud; "a minute or two either way would make all the difference." He picked up the chronometer, which lay idly at his feet, and examined it critically. "It's just possible," he muttered, "the jolting of the camel may have made it go a bit fast; I wonder if I can check it. I am going to try."

Long and eagerly he gazed at the sun through the powerful telescope of the sextant, and every now and then he would note down his observations, and consult the Nautical Almanac which lay open before him. In the midst of these proceedings, Emu Bill and Never Never Dave returned, after a fruitless search, and while they stood watching him, Jack and the Shadow also made their appearance, and lined up beside the other two in solemn silence. There was no need to ask them if they had been successful, their faces plainly indicated disappointment, though they both strove hard to hide their feelings. As for the first arrivals, their rugged countenances betrayed not the slightest trace of emotion. Bill calmly chewed a quid of tobacco, and Dave reflectively pulled at his pipe. To them it did not seem to be a matter of much moment whether they found the spring or not. At length Bob threw down the sextant with a weary sigh.

"The chronometer is right," said he, sadly; then, as his comrades looked at him questioningly, he faltered: "I've done my best, boys ... the fault may not be altogether mine, but ... I am responsible to you.... What can you think of me——?" He gave way completely.

Then out spoke Emu Bill, and his voice rang firm and true—

"Shoot me fur a dingo if I'll listen to you miscallin' yourself, Bob. You has shown us afore what ye were made o', an' hang me for a cross-eyed Chinese if I'll believe you've made the mistake."

"I'm right with ye thar, Bill," grunted Never Never.

Bob looked at them in silent gratitude that was more potent than words.

"Blow me!" blurted out the Shadow, "this ain't no funeral circus." He strode aside and examined the canvas bags overlapping Remorse's tough hide; they were flat and empty, the last drop had gone. He rejoined the little circle quietly, and held out his hand to Bob, who was gazing with unseeing eyes into the horizon. "I knows it ain't your fault," he said simply.

Jack alone had not spoken, but Bob knew his comrade's thoughts; he knew the loyal courage and devotion of the boy's heart.

And all this time Mackay had not come back, nor had any welcome signal been heard. Bob commenced to fear that he would not come back unless he had something to report.

"What did ye mean by sayin' the chronometer was right, Bob?" asked Emu Bill, suddenly.

"If it had gone fast or slow, my longitude, which I calculated by it, would have been out accordingly," replied Bob, listlessly. "I thought the jolting might have affected it."

"Why then," returned Bill, "ain't it more likely that Bentley's time was wrong? If he came in from the west across the whole darned stretch o' sand-ridges, I reckon he would bust things up a bit."

Bob was startled into fresh energy. "Of course, you're right, Bill!" he cried excitedly. "I've been so anxiously looking for a possible error in my own instrument, I never thought of it occurring with Bentley's. I believe you've hit the solution of the whole difficulty. We'll find Fortunate Spring due east of us in that case, for his latitude would be sure to be right."

"We'll get under way at oncet then," grunted Never Never Dave. "We're bound to meet Mackay comin' back."

At once Jack rushed to Misery's head, and the others hastened to their posts. Bob picked up the sextant and chronometer, and with a surging hope in his heart led the way in the direction that Mackay had taken. Slowly, slowly, they broke through the scrub, Misery's bell sending out its melancholy note, and shattering the oppressive stillness which had prevailed but a few minutes before. Onward they went and onward, and yet no sign of Mackay, and no sign of a spring to gladden their weary eyes. About two miles had been traversed, and the spirits of the forlorn party were drooping fast, when from the bush but a few hundred yards ahead a revolver shot boomed out loudly. With one accord the camels stopped dead. They seemed to realize that something was about to happen. Again came the sonorous echoes of an exploding cartridge, and a hoarse cheer burst from the eagerly listening quartet.

"Mackay has found it! Hurrah! Hurrah!" roared the Shadow, and with renewed effort a path was forced on towards the origin of the welcome sound. Five minutes more and they broke into a rough clearing in the bush in the centre of which a tall lime tree reared high above its dwarfed surroundings; and seated by the tree gazing at some rude markings that showed faintly on the gaunt white trunk, was Mackay. At his feet, sunk among the spreading roots, and half hidden by enclustering grassy growths, gleamed the water of the spring. Bob gave a gasp of relief and thankfulness. Emu Bill and Never Never Dave calmly began to unload the camels, the Shadow after vainly trying to find his speech, mechanically pulled out his musical instrument, and sought to indicate his joy thereon.

Then Mackay arose to his feet, "Dinna desecrate the place, Shadow," said he, in gentle reproach. "Remember this is a monument to the dead."

He motioned Bob and Jack to come forward and view the mossy inscription on the tree, and silently they obeyed his summons. Deep graven in the wood was the legend: "Fortunate Spring, 1898. Bentley's Expedition. Lat. 28° 17´ 5´´, long. 125° 19´ 6´´ (Dead Reck.) Course E." Then followed a list of the initials of the party headed by those of Mackay: "J. M."

By this time Emu Bill, Never Never Dave, and the Shadow had also gathered round to view the symbols left by Mackay's old leader, and as each man traced out the lettering for himself, he doffed his tattered hat reverently.

"Ay, boys," spoke Mackay, breaking the solemn hush that reigned, "it was a fortunate spring for us then, and it's a fortunate spring for this expedition now. But how did you manage to come straight for it, Bob? It took me a good time zig-zagging through the bush before I sighted the tree."

In a few words the young navigator explained the cause of their coming, then he pointed to the inscription "Dead Reck." "That shows that Bentley did not think his readings altogether accurate," he said gravely, "and he meant it as a warning to others, though why he didn't put it on his chart is strange to me."

Mackay looked at the speaker with a troubled countenance.

"It's been my fault, Bob. When I copied the figures into my own book I didna think it necessary to put the qualification down."

"I wants to say here," interjected Emu Bill, "that in my humble opinion Bob can steer a course wi' any man, an' my ole carcase is here to prove it. A hundred an' eighty miles he's took us across the miserablest country on God's earth, an' nary time has I heard him grumble."

"I goes nap on Bob every time," concurred Never Never.

A light of real happiness overspread Mackay's bronzed features.

"What more can you ask, Bob?" he said earnestly, "than the testimony o' the pioneer, wha' lends his life to your guidance."

"Hurrah for Fortunate Spring!" shouted Jack, unable to contain himself longer.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" roared the answering chorus.

CHAPTER XII A Night Attack

They lingered for two days by Fortunate Spring in order to give the camels a much-needed rest, then they proceeded on their march, now steering due east, and it was strange indeed how this altered course affected the spirits of the party. They seemed to feel that they were at last on the straight track towards the mystic land of their desire. Mackay even more than the others showed the change in his feelings; he whistled joyously in the exuberance of his heart, and cheered on the labouring team with hearty words of praise. And Bob, relieved considerably of his own vague doubts in himself, had changed apparently into a new being. The vagaries of the Shadow called forth his amusement, and the dry wordy dialogues of the two bushmen never failed to make him laugh with keenest appreciation, a fact which endeared him much to that valiant couple. The freedom of the mighty desert held him in thrall, its dangers were forgotten, the call of the wild was in his ears, the secret of the Never Never beckoned him.

"I told you the sunny skies would alter your temperament," said Jack, whose boisterous good nature had never once deserted him. "I don't think a man gets a fair show in the constantly cloudy weather at home."

"And yet we always get back to the old country somehow," answered Bob, thoughtfully. "I suppose its grand history attracts us when the greater world has palled. I believe I could almost live in history, Jack, wandering about among the castles and cathedrals that have seen the centuries pass. What wonderful records the grim old walls hold. Why, each stone would seem alive to me."

"It would be pleasant to have a big holiday at home," admitted Jack, wistfully; "but our time—and means, for travelling about was pretty limited when we were there——"

"But that will never be again," cried Bob, gaily; "just consider what we have already got in this country, and who knows what may await us out where we are going?"

Who knew indeed? Who ever knows what lies in the dim distance of untrodden tracts? The days passed quickly, though the country continued to be barren and cheerless in aspect, the difficulties of travel were not nearly what they had been on the first long weary stretch. More than once a soak was discovered to replenish the water-bags before they had yet gone dry, and within a week two new wells had been charted. They were little more than the muddy residues of a long previous rainfall, still, the dignity of a Central Australian well as a rule lies wholly in its title, a fact which is well enough known to all explorers.

So successful were they in their journeying that after ten days had elapsed, and they were a hundred and forty miles east of Fortunate Spring, Mackay considered that a brief deviation to the north might be ventured upon on the off chance of evading a long dry stretch which at this stage intervened on Bentley's route, the next and final spring charted by that explorer being over seventy miles distant.

"We had a terribly hard time on that journey," said he, as he gazed across the wavy expanse of shifting sands which spread before them, "an' it's just possible the country to the north'ard a bit may be better. It canna be much worse."

For a long time, however, the varied route showed little prospect of improvement; sand, sand, everlasting sand spread everywhere before them, and progress became dangerously slow. The camels struggled in vain to make headway; they sank and floundered and stumbled in the wreathing masses. In five days the distance covered totalled only forty miles. No wonder Mackay looked grave as he noticed the water-bags' woefully flat appearance.

"I tell you what, boys," burst out Emu Bill, during their noonday halt, "it's mighty sartain we has struck a snag this time. This is the miserablest patch——" He broke off abruptly and fell to abusing the flies besieging his face with remarkable eloquence. No one seemed disposed to question Bill's statement in any way, and shortly afterwards the march was renewed, Bill, Never Never, and the Shadow alternately lauding the striving camels for their patient endurance, and bestowing maledictions upon them for their ponderously slow onward movement.

Hour after hour the melancholy procession laboured along. So soon had the grimmer influence of the country exerted its baleful spell that for a long time each man feared to speak lest he might betray the growing depression at his heart. Then, just as the evening shadows were beginning to close in, a welcome break in the monotonous landscape appeared to gladden their straining eyes. In the faint distance a feathery line of scrub stretched across their path, indicating a decided change in the sand surface, and the sight added vigour to their failing steps. Eagerly they strove to reach the inviting mallee coppice before the thick blackness of night came down to envelop them. But it was not to be; the stumbling gait of the camels could not be hastened, though Emu Bill and his compatriots implored and beseeched the hardy animals with an eloquence that was touching to hear.

"One more try, boys," cried Mackay. "There's bound to be water somewhere among the timber, and we may save ourselves another night of misery by finding it now." He went to Jack's assistance, and together they tugged at the leading camel's nose-rope until the poor brute was literally being dragged through the yielding sands. This method of progression not proving very satisfactory, he next made laudable endeavour to enliven the march by singing raucously a few bars from that old song, "The Campbells are Coming."

"I just reckon they are comin'," Never Never Dave groaned, somewhat confusing the reference; "but they need a jolly lot of persuasion, they do. Get up, Repentance, you cross-eyed streak o' misery. Didn't I give ye a drink last week?"

At length Mackay saw that they must be content to halt in the open for one night more.

"We can't do it, boys," he said, "so let us look for a decent camping-space in the sand; we'll find water if there's any about in the morning."

They had barely time to gather a few twigs from the sparse brush now in evidence, and start a feeble fire, before an impenetrable darkness descended over the desert. Then they busied themselves unloading the camels and preparing their frugal meal, the latter an operation which rarely occupied much time, for obvious reasons. They were indeed in a very deplorable plight at this period; the water-bags had given up much of their store by evaporation, and they now contained but a very meagre supply of the valuable liquid, and the camels were well-nigh dying on their feet from sheer exhaustion.

The hour was quite late, and they were about to roll themselves in their blankets, when suddenly a bright light flamed up luridly among the trees in their course, and harshly through the still air rose the strains of a native chant.

"By the Great Howlin' Billy!" growled Never Never Dave, "there's a corroborree on to-night. It's mighty lucky we didn't reach the timber, after all."

"If there's any nigs about there's bound to be water," asserted the Shadow, with a chuckle of delight, and certainly his reasoning was sound.

Higher and higher blazed the warning beacon, and louder and louder sounded the warriors' dismal wailings, and through the leafless branches of the eucalypti a wildly dancing band of ape-like figures could be distinguished. The little group gazed at the ominous spectacle in silence and with mingled feelings. The presence of a native tribe in the neighbourhood was conclusive proof that an ample water supply was not far off; indeed the aborigines of the Interior almost invariably hold their corroborree ceremonials around the principal spring of the district, for according to their belief a mighty spirit has its abode in every desert pool or soak, and from the slimy depths thereof watches over the welfare of his people. But when ought displeases this dread "Wangul"—the great Dweller in the Waters—he visits his wrath upon the land by drying up the springs and betaking himself elsewhere. It is a wonderfully convenient idea, for it explains away all droughts and following pestilences, and it appeals to the simple heathen instinct as no finer teachings could. To propitiate this god of theirs many ordinances are performed and numerous sacrifices offered, and should any wandering members of an alien tribe happen to be near on such occasions, they are promptly seized upon to occupy the unenviable position of "Corroborree mourners," a post which entails death, preceded by much horrible suffering.

Mackay was mentally recalling his various experiences with the natives in different parts of the country, and with little sense of comfort, when Emu Bill disturbed his musings by saying suddenly—

"I wonder what the howling celebration means to-night, anyway?"

The others had by this time gone to sleep, having been utterly worn out by their trying day's encounter with the desert, and these two sat alone by the dying fire.

"I'm just a wee bit afraid, Bill," answered Mackay, dubiously, "that it has some bearing on our arrival. I never did like to be near the murderous pests in the nighttime."

Bill stirred about uneasily, and it was clear that he shared Mackay's fears.

"I believe you are right," he said, after a moment's pause. "The skunks must have seen us a long way off."

He relapsed into a gloomy silence, and began to draw with great care sundry diagrams in the sand with the improvised camp poker.

Meanwhile the whirling figures in the wood continued their mad career, and the flames from the great fire in their midst spouted high above the motionless mallee tips. The myriad stars twinkled merrily in an unclouded sky, and the Southern Cross constellation shone out brilliantly almost directly overhead. A slender crescent moon just above the horizon lent its feeble halo to the scene, so that a vague, eerie half light seemed to float on the surface of the land. Faster and still faster the maddened Wangul worshippers rushed, and the night was filled with their harsh, unmusical ravings.

Mackay watched the progress of events with quickening interest, while Emu Bill with many a muttered malediction examined the charges in his revolver, and smoked reflectively. Mackay was very unwilling to awake the sleepers unless it were absolutely necessary; they needed all the rest they could get. But Emu Bill recalled him to a sense of duty.

"I've been watching the circus," he said quietly, "an' I can see nary mourner in the crowd. For a dead cert they'll be comin' fur us when they've worked up enough enthusiasm. They'll imagine us to be asleep by now."

Mackay got up without a word, and shook Bob and Jack back to consciousness. Never Never Dave was alert on the instant, but the Shadow slumbered deeply and refused to be awakened, whereupon Emu Bill aroused him by rolling him rudely out of his blanket, a proceeding which almost created a civil war on the spot.

"You has no right to dislocate my sweet dreams in such a dingo fashion," the bellicose Shadow protested grumpily; but when he understood the seriousness of the position his wrath dissolved speedily. "At the same time I reckon you is a bit too much skeert about the antics o' them muskitties," he remarked chidingly. "I was having a daisy dream, I was; flooded rivers an' gold an' di'monds, an'——"

"Shut it off, Shad," unsympathetically interrupted the object of his disapproval. "They're on our track now. Look!"

The corroborree fire continued to blaze up vividly, and the watchers could see numerous naked savages piling on the logs and dancing amid the showering sparks like denizens of the nether world. The circling mass of grotesquely garbed warriors had broken up in apparent confusion, but quickly they again came into view and re-formed on the edge of the zone of illumination, then spreading fan-like to north and south, they came slowly yet steadily towards the supposed sleeping camp. A moment more and they were hidden from view in the intervening shadows.