At 13 miles we crossed a salt lagoon
similar to the one I have described to the S.E. of the plains on which we
had last seen the natives, but larger. Near it there was a temporary
cessation of the fearful country we had just passed, but it was only
temporary, the sand ridges again crossed our path, and at five or seven
miles from the lagoon we pulled up for the night in a small confined
valley in which there was a little grass, our poor horses sadly jaded and
fatigued, and our cart in a very rickety state. We could not well have
been in a more trying situation, and as Mr. Browne, and Lewis (one of the
men I had with me), went to examine the neighbourhood from a knoll not
far off, while there was yet light, I could not but reflect on the
singular fatality that had attended us. I had little hope of finding
water, and doubted in the event of disappointment whether we should get
any of the horses back to the Fish-pond, the nearest water in our rear.
Mr. Browne was late in returning to me, but the news he had to
communicate dispelled all my fears. He had, he told me, from the summit
of the knoll to which he went, observed something glittering in a dark
looking valley about three miles to the N.W., and had walked down to
ascertain what it was, when to his infinite delight he found that it was
a pool of water, covering no small space amongst rocks and stones.
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