"Come, stir out of that and get the camels ready for the
desert!"

This was Jack's cheery way of warning Ollie and me that it
was time to get up on the morning of our start into the Sand
Hills.

"Any simooms in sight?" asked Ollie, by way of reply to
Jack's remark.

"Well, I think Old Browny scents one; he has got his nose
buried in the sand like a camel," answered Jack.

It was only just coming daylight, but we were agreed that an
early start was best. It was another Monday morning, and we knew
that it would take three good days' driving to carry us through
the sand country. We had learned that, notwithstanding what our
visitor of the first night had said, there were several places on
the road where we could get water and feed for the horses. We
should have to carry some water along, however, and had got two
large kegs from Valentine, and filled them and all of our jugs
and pails the night before. We also had a good stock of oats and
corn, and a big bundle of hay, which we put in the cabin on the
bed.

"Just as soon as Old Blacky finds that there is no water
along the road he will insist on having about a barrel a day,"
said Jack. "And if he can't get it he will balk, and kick the