rocky bed. A few gums shaded the pool,
growing in the sand by its edge. On arrival we found a large eagle-hawk
with a broken wing flapping about; this our two boys soon despatched with
sticks, and I looked forward to getting a handsome bird skin. However,
the
youngsters had it plucked and on a heap of burning sticks before we had
done looking for a way, down which to lead the camels.

We made camp just above the pool, and were lucky in finding a patch of
camel feed within a couple of miles across the rocks, for around all was
barren excepting a few stunted gums. The next morning I went with Breaden
for the camels, and noticed what I had suspected before, viz., that
Breaden had lately become very thin and weak. This morning he collapsed,
and I was thankful I had seen it; for he is a man who would never
complain, but just go on until he dropped. He could not conceal his
sickness now, and in a very short time was suffering from severe
dysentery. Luckily we had plenty of water close at hand, for he
could not possibly travel. For three days he lay in the recess of a
sheltering rock near the pool, and we nursed him as best we could.
Condensed milk and brandy, thin cornflour and chlorodyne, I doctored
him with; he was a very obedient patient, whose pangs of hunger were
aggravated by watching us feeding daily on bronzewings, wallabies,
and galahs. This pool was a favourite resort for hundreds of
birds--crows,
hawks, galahs, parakeets, pigeons and sparrows--and numerous dingoes.
Of the bronzewings, which at sundown and before sunrise lined the rocks
literally in hundreds, we shot as many as we wanted. How thick they were
can be judged from the result of one barrel, which killed fourteen.

It was a pretty sight to watch the birds drinking, as we sat in Breaden's
sick-room, the cave. By keeping quite still we could watch them all. All
day long the sparrows, diamond and black, are fluttering about the water,
chirping and twittering, until the shadow of a hawk circling above
scatters them in all directions. Then morning and evening flocks of
little budgerigars, or lovebirds, fly round and round, and at last take a
dive through the air and hang in a cloud close over the water; then,
spreading out their wings, they drink, floating on the surface. The
galahs make the most fuss of any, chattering away on the trees, and
sneaking down one by one, as if they hoped by their noise to cover the
advance of their mate. The prettiest of all th