Having considered all
these matters, I informed my officers and men that I had determined to
push westward, without a thought of retreat, no matter what the result
might be; that it was a matter of life or death for us; we must push
through or die in the scrubs. I added that if any more than one of the
party desired to retreat, I would provide them with rations and
camels, when they could either return to Fowler's Bay by the way we
had come, or descend to Eucla Station on the coast, which lay south
nearly 170 miles distant.
I represented that we were probably in the worst desert upon the face
of the earth, but that fact should give us all the more pleasure in
conquering it. We were surrounded on all sides by dense scrubs, and
the sooner we forced our way out of them the better. It was of course
a desperate thing to do, and I believe very few people would or could
rush madly into a totally unknown wilderness, where the nearest known
water was 650 miles away. But I had sworn to go to Perth or die in the
attempt, and I inspired the whole of my party with my own enthusiasm.
One and all declared that they would live or die with me. The natives
belonging to this place had never come near us, therefore we could get
no information concerning any other waters in this region.
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