either he had perfect confidence in us, or was indifferent as to his
fate--he looked rather as if he were saying "Kismet." We had some trouble
in digging him out, during which operation Luck fared as I had done
before; he was pinned beneath the camel, waist deep in clay, and in that
position had to emulate the stolid patience of Omerod until I could dig
him out. At last they were both free, and after considerable labour we
landed on the island, camels, baggage, and all, just as night fell.
We WERE cold too, clothes and arms and faces covered with moist salt clay,
and nothing with which to make a fire but sprigs of dead samphire. A cold
night means an early start--so we were up betimes and found that the
camels, not tied, since we thought them safe on an island, had in search
of feed hobbled across the lake, and were standing disconsolate on this
sea of mud, afraid to move now that in daylight they could see their
surroundings. A repetition of the preceding day's performance, landed us
beyond the treacherous lake-bed, and the following day we were fortunate
in finding a fine rock-hole of water, which enabled us to reappear as
white men.

Mirages are nearly always to be seen on these lakes of the interior, and
from their occurrence it is impossible to determine the extent of the flat
expanse of mud. On this occasion I witnessed the finest I have ever seen.
The hot sun playing upon the damp breeze rising from the lake, transformed
this desolate sea of salt and clay, into a charming picture. The horizon
and the sky were joined by a mirage of beautiful clear water, from which
islands and hills seemed to rise; even their shadows and those of the
trees with which they were clothed were reflected in the unruffled surface
of the lake. The long stretch of sand between, gave the picture the
appearance of a peaceful, natural harbour, which the tide was about to
fill.