they were soon blown down; then came lightning and thunder, and during the flashes could be descried hats, trousers, gaiters, shirts, taking their private airing by themselves, and McKinlay holding on by his tent-pole, "There go my trousers!" "There goes my hat!" sings out another, and so on. Had I the pencil of "Crowquill," or the world-known "George," I might scratch that scene; and although shivering with cold and wet we could not help laughing, the picture was too ludicrous. It soon came to an end, then we tried to settle ourselves somehow or other, but, oh, so wet!
It was of no use trying to put up the tents, for they were rent to atoms, and so dark was it that we could not have found a peg for the life of us; so we got out our blankets as well as we could from the débris, and made a camp outside, under the lee of the sheep pen. We were soon asleep in our damp beds, and it continued to rain nearly till 12 o'clock.
29th. Called by Mr. McKinlay to loose camels, when we managed to get some blankets from the camp, feeling rather miserable. However the morning was beautifully fine, and soon put life into us. Oh! for some thing or other said each of us; rum, shrub, or whiskey, brandy-spider or sherrycobbler. We remained cleaning arms, for they were in a frightful state from last night's storm.
30th. Plenty of work to-day, mending and
