We left Patience Well on the 12th, at 10 a.m., taking the woman with us.  Breaden was the only one in whose charge she would consent to be at all calm; to him therefore was allotted the duty of looking after her.  At eleven we reached the dry well to which Warri and I had tracked the natives.  The water we were forced to use was so uninviting that I decided to make another effort to find a supply in this locality.  The gin was of no use whatever, and would only repeat whatever we said to her—­“Gabbi,” which King Billy had understood, was wasted on her.  “Gabbi, gabbi,” she repeated, waving her arm all round the horizon.  Leaving the rest to bottom the dry well, which might have water lower down, Warri and I again started off on the tracks of a buck, and these we followed due North on foot for four and a half hours, hoping every moment to come on a well.  Soon after starting an apparently old track joined the other, and together they marched still North.  Presently the old tracks changed into fresh ones, and close by I found two rough sandals made of strips of bark.  One I kept, the other was too nearly worn out.  There was no change in the dreary appearance of the country; through scrubs, over stones and sand we held our way, until Warri, who was now a little way behind, called, “No good, no more walk!” I could see the poor boy was knocked up, and felt little better myself; to go on did not guarantee water, and might end in disaster, so after a short rest we retraced our steps.  The night was now dark and oppressive, so hatless and shirtless we floundered through the spinifex, nearly exhausted from the walk, following so close on the last few days’ work.  I believe that but for Warri I should have been “bushed”; my head was muddled, and the stars not too clear.  What a joyful sight met our eyes as we crested a rise of sand—­a sight almost as reviving as the food and water we so anxiously looked forward to.  Tongues of flame shot up in the air, a fire lit by our mates, but showing that, in spite of Warri’s instinct, we had not been walking in quite the right direction.  No welcome news greeted our arrival—­the well was dry, and the native obdurate.  We all agreed she was useless, and since she refused all forms of nutriment I feared she would die on our hands, so she regained her liberty, and fled away with a rapidity not expected in one of her years.

My companions had felt some anxiety at our continued absence, and again I had evidence of the cordial friendship existing between us.

With reference to the bark sandals, the use of which is not so far known, I append an extract from “The Horn Scientific Expedition,” Part iv., where we read the following: 

“Sandals. 
“Arunta Tribe.

“Kurdaitcha shoes.—­When a native for some reason desired to kill a member of another camp or tribe, he consulted the medicine man of his camp, and arrangements were made for a ‘Kurdaitcha Luma.’ . . .  Both medicine man and Kurdaitcha wore remarkable shoes.  These had the form of a long pad made of human hair, with numberless emu feathers intertwined, and with a certain amount of human blood to act as a cementing substance.