With the exception of a
few showers which fell in January, not a drop of rain to leave water
has fallen since I left the telegraph line.
I cannot leave this singular spot without a few remarks on its
peculiarities and appearance, for its waters are undoubtedly
permanent, and may be useful to future travellers. In the first place
Fort McKellar bears 12 degrees east of south from the highest ridge of
Mount Destruction, in the Carnarvon Range; that mountain, however, is
partially hidden by the intervening low hills where Mr. Tietkens's
riding-horse Bluey died. In consequence I called it Bluey's Range.
This depot is amongst a heavy clump of fine eucalypts, which are only
thick for about a quarter of a mile. From beneath this clump a fine
strong spring of the purest water flows, and just opposite our fort is
a little basin with a stony bottom, which we had to bridge over to
reach the western bank. The grazing capabilities of the country are
very poor, and the horses only existed here since leaving the pass. On
the 20th it was a month since Gibson and I departed for the west. This
morning three natives came up near the camp, but as they or their
tribe had so lately attacked it, I had no very loving feelings for
them, although we had a peaceable interview.
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