A good supply of water had been discovered, and, notwithstanding the alarming scarcity of provisions, it was indispensable that they should halt by it for some days, in order to give the camels an opportunity of partially recovering their strength. Without them the explorers could hardly hope to cross the wide and weary wilderness in which they were involved. Their rapidly diminishing store of food they endeavoured to eke out by killing such feathered spoil as came within their range—Gular parrots, and bronze-wing and top-knot pigeons—and by a mess of boiled salt-plant (_Salicornia_). On the 14th they resumed their weary march. An entry or two from Colonel Warburton’s journal will afford a vivid idea of his distressed condition at this period:— “19th. This is Sunday. How unlike one at home! Half a quart of flour and water at four a.m.; a hard, sinewy bit of raw, that is, sun-dried, but uncooked, camel-meat for dinner at two p.m.; supper uncertain, perhaps some roasted acacia seeds: this is our bill of fare. These seeds are not bad, but very small and very hard; they are on bushes, not trees, and the natives use them roasted and pounded. “20th. Got a pigeon; and some flour and water for breakfast. We can only allow ourselves a spoonful of flour each at a time, and it won’t last many days even at this rate. “Killed a large camel for food at sunset. We would rather have killed a worse one, but this bull had, in the early part of our journey, got a very bad back, and was unable to work for a long time. . . . “21st. Cutting up and jerking camel-meat. The inside has given us a good supper and breakfast. This is a much better beast than the old, worn-out cow we killed before, and we have utilized every scrap, having had a sharp lesson as to the value of anything we can masticate. . . . “25th. All the camel-meat has been successfully jerked, and we have lived since the 20th on bone-broth and gristle. The birds were getting shy, so when we killed the camel we gave them a rest; to-day we go at them again. I hope the water-searchers will return this evening; our prospects are not very bright under any circumstances, but if we get water anywhere between south and west we shall have a prospect of overcoming the difficulties and dangers that threaten us. . . . “29th. A short rain squall passed over us last evening; it has cooled the ground a little. Economy is, of course, the order of the day in provisions. My son and I have managed to hoard up about one pound of flour and a pinch of tea; all our sugar is gone. Now and then we afford ourselves a couple of spoonfuls of flour, made into paste. When we indulge in tea the leaves are boiled twice over. I eat my sun-dried camel-meat uncooked, as far as I can bite it; what I cannot bite goes into the quart pot, and is boiled down to a sort of poor-house broth. When we get a bird we dare not clean it, lest we should lose anything.