fountain, and on its brink had found a horrible death. The travelers gazed with whitened faces at these dreadful signs.
"Do not descend," said Kennedy; "let us fly this horrible sight. There is not a drop of water to be obtained."
"Not so, Dick. Let us do our best about this. We may as well pass the night here as anywhere else. We will sound these wells—a spring has existed here-perhaps there are traces of it still."
The "Victoria" was brought to the ground. Joe and Kennedy threw into the car a weight of sand equivalent to their own, and they got out. They ran towards the wells, and penetrated into the interior by means of a stairway, already crumbling to dust. The spring appeared to have been dried up for years. They dug into the dry and powdered sand—that most arid of all sands—but there was not even a trace of dampness.
The doctor saw them returning, perspiring, disheveled, and covered with fine dust; they were defeated, discouraged, and desperate. He perceived the failure of their search. He had expected such a result, and said nothing. He felt that from this day forward he must have courage and energy for all three.
Joe had brought up the remains of an old dried leather bottle, which he threw angrily amongst the bones scattered around him. During supper, not a word was spoken by the travelers; they ate without appetite. And yet they had not hitherto really suffered the torments of thirst, and they only despaired for the future.
CHAPTER XXVI
A DESPAIRING SEARCH
The distance accomplished by the "Victoria" during the preceding day did not exceed ten miles, and to sustain her in the air they had used 162 cubic feet of gas.
On Saturday morning the doctor gave the signal for departure.
"The blow-pipe," said he, "can only work for six hours longer. If in that time we do not reach a well or spring, God alone knows what will become of us."
