, but this extra exertion was rather too much.
Besides, we were sadly in need of sleep; so, taking advantage of what
little shade we could find by following round the shadow of a gum tree as
the sun moved, Charlie slept whilst I watched our black friend, and then
I did the same. On arrival at camp we found that our companions had been
so successful in "soak-sucking," i.e., baling and scraping up the
miserable trickle of water as it soaks into the "caisson," that by
sunset we were able to give the camels eight gallons each, and two
gallons extra to Misery, who was showing signs of a rapid recovery.
Luckily there was a little patch of dry herbage not far from the well,
and a few acacias over the ridge. All the next day we were occupied in
"soak-sucking," and Warri went back for Misery's saddle, which had been
thrown off. I took the opportunity of writing up my diary--anything but a
pleasant job, for shade there was none, except in a reclining position
under our solitary ti-tree bush. The native's close proximity and the
swarm of flies, made the task quite hateful, for under the most
favourable conditions there are few things I dislike more than writing.
On September 28th I chronicled a most remarkable fact, viz., that the two
camels Satan and Redleap had had no more than thirteen gallons of water
in the preceding thirty-eight days--a wonderful exhibition of endurance
and pluck in this burning weather and barren country. It came about in
this way:--

August 22nd. At Woodhouse Lagoon they had a full drink in the morning.

August 29th. At Warri Well, where the parakeelia grew, two gallons in the
evening.

September 8th. At Patience Well they were the last to be watered, eight
gallons in the evening.

September 18th. At Family Well, parakeelia again, three gallons at night.

September 28th. Half a drink.

Therefore between the 22nd of August and the 28th of September they had
no more than thirteen gallons.

Satan had more travelling, though carrying a less load, than any of the
rest, being used for scouting and finding natives.

On the evening of the 29th I left my work down the well to take some
observations; unluckily I was just too late for the stars I wanted, and
had to wait up for some long time. We had divided the night into five
shifts for baling; when my turn came my companions did not wake me, but
did my shift for me. I am sure I appreciated their kindly thought, and
felt thankful indeed, and not for the fir