The day was warm for this time of year, the thermometer standing at 95
degrees in the shade. But before we went exploring for water we
thought it well to have some dinner. The most inviting looking spot
was at the opposite or southern end of the lake, which was
oval-shaped; we had first touched upon it at its northern end. Alec
Ross walked over to inspect that, and any other likely places, while I
dug wells in the bed of the lake. The soil was reasonably good and
moist, and on tasting it I could discover no taint of salt, nor had
the surface the same sparkling incrustation of saline particles that I
had noticed upon all the other lake-beds. At ten or eleven inches I
reached the bedrock, and found the soil rested upon a rotten kind of
bluish-green slate, but no water in the numerous holes I dug rewarded
me, so I gave it up in despair and returned to the camp to await
Alec's report of his wanderings. On the way I passed by some black
oak-trees near the margin, and saw where the natives had tapped the
roots of most of them for water. This I took to be a very poor sign of
any other water existing here. I could see all round the lake, and if
Alec was unsuccessful there was no other place to search.
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