100 degrees in shade. This place was always called the Cob.

We had great difficulty in driving the horses past the Cups, as the
poor creatures having got water there once, supposed it always existed
there. Some of these little indents held only a few pints of water,
others a few quarts, and the largest only a few gallons. Early the
second day we got back, but we had left so little water behind us,
that we found it nearly all gone. Six days having elapsed makes a
wonderful difference in water that is already inclined to depart with
such evaporation as is always going on in this region. We now went to
where Mr. Tietkens had found another place, and he and Gibson took the
shovel to open it out, while Jimmy and I unpacked the horses. Here
Jimmy Andrews set fire to the spinifex close to all our packs and
saddles, and a strong hot wind blowing, soon placed all our belongings
in the most terrible jeopardy. The grass was dry and thick, and the
fire raged around us in a terrific manner; guns and rifles, riding-
and pack-saddles were surrounded by flames in a moment. We ran and
halloed and turned back, and frantically threw anything we could catch
hold of on to the ground already burnt. Upsetting a couple of packs,
we got the bags to dash out the flames, and it was only by the most
desperate exertions we saved nearly everything. The instant a thing
was lifted, the grass under it seemed to catch fire spontaneously; I
was on fire, Jimmy was on fire, my brains were in a fiery, whirling
blaze; and what with the heat, dust, smoke, ashes, and wind, I thought
I must be suddenly translated to Pandemonium. Our appearance also was
most satanic, for we were both as black as demons.

There was no shade; we hadn't a drop of water; and without speaking a
word, off we went up the gully to try and get a drink; there was only
just enough thick fluid for us, the horses standing disconsolately