than two gallons each. Lucky indeed, because even with another night's
work we were only just able to get a sufficient supply to carry us on for
a few days, and but for the parakeelia either we or the camels would have
had to go short.

We did not completely exhaust the water in the well--not, I fear, because
we studied the convenience of the natives, but because our makeshift
appliances did not enable us to sink deeper. So we bade adieu to our
simple black friends, and set our faces to the sand-ridges. On leaving
camp in the morning I found a piece of candle lying on the ground. I
threw it to the buck, and he, evidently thinking it good to eat, put it
in his mouth, holding the wick in his fingers, and, drawing off the
tallow with his teeth, swallowed it with evident relish.




CHAPTER IX



DR. LEICHARDT'S LOST EXPEDITION


At this point I must ask pardon of the courteous reader for a seeming
digression, and interpolate a short account of Dr. Leichardt's lost
expedition--as to the fate of which nothing is known; and although no
apparent connection exists between it and this narrative, it may be that
in our journey we have happened on traces, and that the pieces of iron
mentioned in the last chapter may serve as some clue to its fate. On