Four days later, all was ready, the animals had been refreshed,
the stores packed away, and Tom had indeed recorded the GPS site
so the journey began. Tom had in no short way, told Chooka what
he thought against it. although deep down he admired him for his
determination.
About five hours later, they had arrived at the spot according
to the GPS recollection. All stared in frustration, as the area
had completely changed, even from the time after the storm, now all timbers were buried, and they would have to start from anew.
Jack and Sandy would unpack the camels, and Lofty with Chooka
would choose the campsite. Jack's idea to carry some firewood
now proved to be prudent, as there was no wood in sight, they
would have to address that tomorrow.
With the camp now set up, Jack explained to the two lads about
the tinge of green sprouting on the flats and dunes. he told
of the aboriginal name for the grass that only sprouted after
the fall of rain, it was called parakelia, this amazing grass
could store its own water in the long cylindrical leaves. The
animals that feed on it, could eat and drink at the same time.
And as he squeezed the water from the stems, he told of many
a tribesperson who had survived on its water.
Old Sol, now began to act like an old artist, who was in a very
last effort to paint the landscape, before he lost the light.
The colors changed quickly, as he frantically painted the scene,
before dropping below the horizon, to allow the night artist to
takeover.

Lofty had whipped up some bacon and beans, some kangaroo steaks,
all to be washed down with tea and coffee and Johnny cakes.

After the meal, the conversation reverted to the task tomorrow,
of trying to find this owner of the rampant register on Chooka's
detector. As they departed for the groundsheets, all agreed it
would not be easy.
Morning Came like a Taubman's paintchart, splashing colors over
the landscape. All arose within minutes of one another, each off
to do their ablutions, before rekindling the fire, and starting the days endeavours.
The task today would not be easy, starting from the center out
to the easterly direction where the storm had tossed Chooka.
Without any timber around to guide them, or the small tree where the carking crows had roosted, luck would would have to play a major part.
The best part of the morning, was pointing to hopelessness, so a
stop was called, and some cold jerky and Johnny cakes were nice.
Jack stood out to the left of the group while they ate, he was
imagining the recent water run off across this corner, where he
had found Chooka, had been below a ridge, where any water would
run to, which pointed to a soak somewhere close. He began to use
his survival instincts, searching for a lower level.
He was soon rewarded, as he found it some 400 yards away, slight
but promising.
Removing a spade from the pack camel, he began to dig, and in a
foot or two, he struck wet sand, which led to water bubbling up.
So for a length of ten yards, he dug a foot channel straight to
his left. He then instructed Chooka, to sweep the trench with his detector, at the beginning there was nothing, but about half
way along it began to register loudly, from its deep pinging, it
was something heavy.
Untold excitement reverbrated through the group, and they soon
set to marking the spot with a cairn of stones.
Eagerness was forthright on their minds, but then old Lofty let
them know, they still had tomorrow to achieve their goal, and a
rush of impatience was'nt warranted.
So they elected to return to camp, and move it over here closer,
so they could begin first thing in the morning.
Each reluctantly retired to their swags, with untold thoughts of
the pingings origins.