After resting for a day, he started with two companions for a final
attempt, leaving the remainder camped to await his return, with
instructions, if the water failed, to fall back on the Oakover. This
excursion nearly proved fatal; the heat was something terrible, and when
well advanced in the sand ridges, the horses gave in altogether. Afar to
the east, a distant range was faintly visible, and a granite range could
be seen to the south, about ten miles distant. These granite hills were
their only hope, and to them they turned.
Across the sand hills now, instead of running parallel with them, the
horses at once gave up, and, leaving his comrades to drive them on as
best they could, Gregory pushed towards the goal on foot, but when he
reached it no sign of verdure or moisture greeted him. Blasted, scorched,
and barren the rocks and rugged ravines lay before him, and all his weary
searching resulted only in his completely breaking down with distress and
fatigue. When his companions came up with the dying horses there was
nothing to do but make preparations to get back as soon as they could to
the depot, trusting that the want of water might not have compelled the
main party to abandon the camp.
Pages:
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393