bad way, for we had travelled nearly one hundred miles from the last water, and if this was dry we knew no other that we could reach.  However, we were not going to cry before we were hurt and set to work to dig out the soak, and in a short time were rewarded by the sight of water trickling in on all sides, and, by roughly timbering the sides, soon had a most serviceable well—­a state of affairs greatly appreciated by Tommy and the camels.  This spring or soakage, whichever it may be, is in black sand, though the sand outside the little basin is yellowish white.  From what I have heard and read of them it must be something of the nature of what are called “black soil springs.”  Giles was right in his description of its remarkable surroundings—­unless we had marched right into the oasis, we should perhaps have missed it altogether, for it was unlikely that Lindsay’s camel tracks would be visible except where sheltered from the wind by the trees; and our only instruments for navigation were a prismatic and pocket compass, and a watch for rating our travel.  I was greatly pleased at such successful steering for a first attempt of any distance, and Luck was as pleased as I was, for to him I owed many useful hints.  Yet I was not blind to the fact that it was a wonderful piece of luck to strike exactly a small spot of no more than fifty acres in extent, hidden in the valleys of the sandhills, from whose summits nothing could be seen but similar mounds of white sand.  Amongst the white gum trees we found one marked with Lindsay’s initials with date.  Under this I nailed on a piece of tin, on which I had stamped our names and date.  Probably the blacks have long since taken this down and used it as an ornament.  Another tree, a pine, was marked W. Blake; who he was I do not know, unless one of Lindsay’s party.  Not far off was a grave, more like that of a white man than of a native; about its history, too, I am ignorant.

Numerous old native camps surrounded the water, and many weapons, spears, waddies, and coolimans were lying about.  The camps had not been occupied for some long time.  In the scrub we came on a cleared space, some eighty yards long and ten to twelve feet wide.  At each end were heaps of ashes, and down the middle ran a well-beaten path, and a similar one on either side not unlike an old dray track.  Evidently a corroboree ground of some kind.  From Luck I learnt that north of Eucla, where he had been with a survey party, the natives used such grounds in their initiation ceremonies.  A youth on arriving at a certain age may become a warrior, and is then allowed to carry a shield and spear.  Before he can attain this honour he must submit to some very horrible rites—­which are best left undescribed.  Seizing each an arm of the victim, two stalwart “bucks” (as the men are called) run him up and down the cleared space until they are out of breath; then two more take places, and up and down they go until at last the boy is exhausted.  This is the aboriginal method