those extraordinary basins, holes, or cups washed out of the solid
rock by ancient ocean's force, ages before an all-seeing Providence
placed His dusky children upon this scene, or even before the waters
had sufficiently subsided to permit either animal or man to exist
here. From this singular cup we obtained a sufficient supply of that
fluid so terribly scarce in this region. We had to fill a canvas
bucket with a pint pot to water our horses, and we outspanned for the
remainder of the day at this exceedingly welcome spot. There were a
few hundred acres of excellent grass land, and the horses did
remarkably well during the night. The day had been very hot; the
thermometer in the shade at this rock stood at 106 degrees.

This proved a most abominable camp; it swarmed with ants, and they
kept biting us so continually, that we were in a state of perpetual
motion nearly all the time we were there. A few heat-drops of rain
fell. I was not sorry to leave the wretched place, which we left as
dry as the surrounding void. We continued our west course over
sandhills and through scrub and spinifex. The low ridges of which the
western horizon was formed, and which had formerly looked perfectly
flat, was reached in five miles; no other view could be got. A mile
off was a slightly higher point, to which we went; then the horizon,
both north and west of the same nature, ran on as far as could be
seen, without any other object upon which to rest the eye. There were
a few little gullies about, which we wasted an hour amongst in a
fruitless search for water. The Bitter Water Creek now lay south of
us; I was not at all satisfied at our retreat from it. I was anxious
to find out where it went, for though we had spent several days in its
neighbourhood, we had not travelled more than eight or ten miles down
it; we might still get a bucket or two of water for our three horses
where I had killed the little cob. We therefore turned south in hopes