It was late by the time we encamped, and the
horses were much in want of water, especially the big cob, who kept
coming up to the camp all night, and tried to get at our water-bags,
pannikins, etc. The instinct of a horse when in the first stage of
thirst in getting hold of any utensil that ever had water in it, is
surprising and most annoying, but teaching us by most persuasive
reasons how akin they are to human things. We had one small water-bag
hung in a tree. I did not think of this just at the moment, when my
mare came straight up to it and took it in her teeth, forcing out the
cork and sending the water up, which we were both dying to drink, in a
beautiful jet, which, descending to earth, was irrevocably lost. We
now had only a pint or two left. Gibson was now very sorry he had
exchanged Badger for the cob, as he found the cob very dull and heavy
to get on; this was not usual, for he was generally a most willing
animal, but he would only go at a jog while my mare was a fine walker.
There had been a hot wind from the north all day. The following
morning (23rd) there was a most strange dampness in the air, and I had
a vague feeling, such as must have been felt by augurs, and seers of
old, who trembled as they told, events to come; for this was the last
day on which I ever saw Gibson.
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