started at once to water the camels, which had had no drink since August
21st, a period of seventeen days, with the exception of two gallons
apiece at Warri Well, where the parakeelia grew.

By midnight all but three--Satan, Redleap, and Misery--had drunk as much
as they could hold. These three had to be content with a small amount,
for we could not get more without digging out the well, and this we
proceeded to do. The night was hot and cloudy, and constant puffs of wind
made work by the light of candles so impossible that we had perforce to
bear the extra heat of a blazing fire. The native well, as we found it,
had been scooped out with hand and cooliman, just large enough to allow
one to descend to a depth of fifteen feet, and the sides of the hole
plastered back with mud, which had baked hard. To follow this hole
further was not feasible, for going down on a slope as it did, any
further deepening would cause the sand to fall in; we had therefore to
start a new vertical shaft from the surface. After a considerable amount
of digging we reached water level, and were preparing to bail the water,
when with a thud the whole thing caved in, and our labour had to be
recommenced. At the time the wedge of ground fell in Godfrey was working
below and narrowly escaped being buried. A timely rope fortunately saved
him. I never saw a man come quicker out of a hole! Now we were a bit
puzzled. Our position was this: six camels were watered, three were not,
our tanks were empty (my fault, for I should have first filled them and
then the camels; but yet if we had water and the camels had none, would
we have been better off?); our well, containing X, an unknown quantity of
water, had fallen in. Query, whether to recommence digging, or to pack up
and follow the blacks? Now, the well might contain a good supply, or
yield no more than a gallon or two; and the blacks might or might not
have gone on to a good water. It was a puzzle. Finally we compromised,
and I sent Breaden and Warri to hunt up the tracks, whilst we started