It Walked in on Fresh Air.
With just 45 inches of annual rainfall, our farm tended to get quite dry during the hot summer months, and the grasses became brittle and crackling underfoot. Strangely, the dam furthest from our homestead never dried up. Somewhere, deep below the surface, water kept seeping in, although very slowly. There might well be other underground streams, and much bigger ones, we considered.
Over the years I had dowsed for many an underground stream, water pipes, oil, gold nuggets and more,
and if not in open terrain, on maps. That can, at times, be just as easy. What I would not trust was my dowsing
on my own property, and an old farmer called Giles came to dowse our little farm. It being for the most covered
with Eucalyptus trees, there was only about 45 acres he could check out, because the drill rig would hardly get
into the forest part, and we wanted to clear none of our lovely trees.
"Thats the Indicator!"
Just a few weeks later, the drill rig arrived. 180 feet in our kind of sandstone country would only
take four hours, five hours at most. Two of the three-men crew independently checked out Giles dowsing, and
confirmed it was marked right on the button. With the rig installed, drilling for some hours, and getting
close to the 145 feet mark, the crew all fell silent, ears pricked for a change in sound from the drilling rig.
Their boss kept his hand on the drill shaft, feeling for the vibrations. Suddenly he raised his arm, and said, Got
ye! To me, however, it seemed he had hit a slab of tough granite.
© 11:11 Progress Group.