The tribe had left behind them a number of treasures--bundles of

firemaking sticks, bean-and-gum ornaments, and the usual bark

"portmanteaus" [Note at end of paragraph.] containing hair-string,

feathers, red ochre, and other knick-knacks. Amongst their weapons was a

curiously shaped boomerang; on one of the woommeras was a rough carving of

either a spider or crab. As soon as the camels arrived we unloaded and set

to work on the well, "soak-sucking" in our old style. By morning we had

watered the camels and horses. The former were of course pretty fit,

but the poor ponies had done a fair stage, especially so since they had

had no feed except the rank dry tops of the spinifex. May 3rd sunrise,

to May 8th sunrise, they had travelled on what water we could afford them

from our own supply, viz., three gallons apiece nightly, and six gallons

the first night. The grass around the well, though dry, was of great

benefit to them. For the camels we had to cut down the mulga trees, the

branches of which grew too high from the ground to permit them to browse

off the leaves. A number of dingoes serenaded us as we worked at night;

what they live upon is not quite clear, unless it be spinifex rats. There

were other small rats in the locality, two of which the dwarf had for

supper--plucked, warmed upon the ashes, torn in pieces by his long nails

and eaten; an unpleasant meal to witness, and the partaker of it badly

needed a finger-bowl, for his hands and beard were smeared with blood.

He did not take kindly to salt beef, for his teeth were not fit for hard

work, as he pointed out to us; and salt beef is not by any means easy to

masticate. As a rule the blacks have such splendid teeth that the dwarf's

case is remarkable, seeing that he was not at all an old man.

[* Note: A native bark "portmanteau," brought back from this locality,

was opened at Newstead Abbey and found to contain--

1. Plumes of hawks' and crows' feathers.

2. Neck-bands of opossum wool.

3. String bracelets.

4. Fragments of quartz, suitable for spear and chisel heads.

5. Fragments of sandstone, for making red paint.

6. Message-stick.

7. A stick 12 inches long, wrapped in downy feathers and greasy string;

on this was wound a great length of human-hair string, forming a

bobbin-shaped article, the use of which I do not know. I have now three

portmanteaus still unopened.]

The Dwarf Well had a better supply than any we had seen, and it is

possible that there is some soakage into it from the surrounding country.

It lies nearly five miles south of a low range of hills, the highest

point of which bears 1 degree from it; to the North a sand-ridge, to the

South a spinifex plain, six miles wide, then more ridges. I make its

position to be lat. 22 degrees 19 minutes, long. 128 degrees 16 minutes.

On the plain to the south are one or two small outcrops of ironstone and

quartz, sticking up out of the sand, as if some hills other than sandstone

had existed, and become buried by the all-spreading sand. I carved C on a

tall mulga-tree close to the well.

May 9th we left the well on a Southerly course, and were soon amongst the

ridges, which continued for the next two days. The night of the 11th,

having skirted a line of rough cliffs, we camped about three miles North

of a very prominent single hill, which I named Mount Webb, after W. F.

Webb, Esq., of Newstead Abbey, Nottinghamshire. As the sun rose that

morning the mirage of a lake of apparently great size was visible for

90 degrees of the horizon--that is, from East round to South. Neither from

the cliffs that we skirted, nor from Mount Webb, was any lake visible, but

it is more than probable that a large salt lake exists in this locality,

possibly connecting, in a broken line, Lake White and Lake Macdonald. A

mirage sometimes appears in exactly the opposite direction from that in

which the lake lies, but I noticed when standing on the Stansmore Range

that as the sun rose Lake White was clearly visible, whilst when the sun

had risen a few degrees above the horizon the lake disappeared. I am of

opinion, therefore, that large lakes will some day be found to lie to the

North-East of Mount Webb. Had we not been so pressed for time I should

have made a flying trip in this direction. Mount Webb is flat-topped,

isolated, rocky-sided, innocent of all vegetation, of sandstone capped

with quartzite, standing out with imposing clearness some five hundred

feet above a plain of spinifex and mulga scrubs. From its summit numerous

hills and bluffs can be seen; to the South spinifex plains and ridges;

to the South-East a tabletop between two bluffs; to the West a low line

of stony hills, beyond them a limitless sea of sandhills; to the

North-West a broken range of peaks, and, far distant, a large hill

swaying in the haze of heat.

From the foot of the hill a hunting-fire was seen close by. "Gabbi,

gabbi," said the dwarf, greatly excited; and when we turned towards

it "Yo-yo-yo" in approval. As we silently approached we saw two

old hags flitting about, as nimbly as their aged limbs would allow, in

the blazing spinifex--now picking up a dead lizard, and now poking about

with their yam-sticks as if in search of some rat which had been roasted

in his burrow. It is impossible to describe the look of terrific awe on

the faces of these quaint savages. Let us imagine our own feelings on

being, without warning, confronted by a caravan of strange prehistoric

monsters; imagine an Easter holiday tripper surrounded by the fearful

beasts at the Crystal Palace suddenly brought to life! What piercing

shrieks they gave forth, as, leaving their hunting implements, they raced

away, to drop, all at once, behind a low bush, where, like the ostrich,

they hid their heads, and so hoped to escape detection.

It was almost impossible to gain the confidence of the gins: old ladies

seem so very suspicious. The dwarf somewhat reassured them, and after

much difficulty one was persuaded to show their camp--and such a

camp!--perched up in the rocks on a little plot of sand, close by a

miniature watercourse, and in this a small native well, so rock-bound

as to preclude further opening out. And yet for this miserable affair we

were glad to offer up thanks, for the sake of the ponies. What labour for

a few gallons of water, not so much as we use in our baths every morning

in civilised countries! But no man could stand idly by and watch the mute

longing of his faithful horses. So freeing the dwarf and the old gin, a

fit pair, we set to work. All that afternoon and all through the night we

dug and hauled and scraped, and by morning had the horses watered and

twenty gallons to boot. There had been eight or nine blacks at this camp,

who, on their return from hunting in the evening, watched our proceedings

with intense annoyance. They stopped about one hundred yards away, and,

yelling and shrieking, brandished their spears in a most warlike manner.

That night they camped not far off, and, as on every other occasion on

which we invaded their homes, I consider we owed our immunity from attack

to the fact that work on the well entailed one or other of the party

being up all through the night, thus acting as a watch. Had they known

their power they might have made things most unpleasant by spearing our

camels. Fortunately it is only those natives who have come within the

civilising influence of the white man, that learn such little acts of

courtesy. It is noticeable that amongst the treasures in this camp were a

great quantity of "letter-sticks," which is evidence that the carvings

on letter-sticks cannot be written messages, unless this camp was a

desert post-office! If, however, the sticks are tokens, as I suppose,

then one of this tribe may be a craftsman who carves distinctive symbols

on each stick to order, and who had lately received a number of

commissions for such sticks. It seems likely that one man or tribe should

have a special aptitude for manufacturing message-sticks, whilst others

perhaps make a speciality of hair-string or spears. Or again it may be

that the number of sticks, certainly two dozen, denote orders from

far-off tribes, who wish to barter such articles as pearl-shells for

perhaps spinifex-gum of a superfine quality. (I have noticed that the

spinifex growing on the sandstone hills, particularly on the Stansmore

Range, exudes a great deal more resin than that growing on the sand.)

This bartering of goods is very remarkable, and here we found pearl

oyster-shells which must have passed from tribe to tribe for at least

five hundred miles; pieces of glass, carefully protected by covers of

woven feathers and opossum-string; the red beans which are found in

Kimberley, and, as Warri tells me, in the MacDonnell Ranges of Central

Australia; a stone tomahawk-head, a dark green stone (serpentine); and

besides, numerous sporrans of rats' tails, feathers, nose bones, red

ochre, and a piece of the top part of a human skull polished and slung on

a string. Certainly for its size this was the best appointed tribe we had

seen.

The position of this well, a very poor one, is lat. 22 degrees 57 minutes,

long. 128 degrees 20 minutes--one mile West of Mount Webb.

Some good grass grows in the mulga scrubs which are dotted over the plain

surrounding the hill. Nine miles south of the Mount, sand-ridges, East

and West as usual, are again met with; from the crest of one we saw the

last of Mount Webb, twenty-two miles distant. We now hourly expected to

get a view of Lake Macdonald, a large dry salt lake discovered by Tietkens

in 1889. Tietkens was Giles's right-hand man in all, or nearly all, his

journeys--a man whose great services to his country have never been

acknowledged, because, I suppose, as second in command his name seldom

appeared in the accounts of his leader's travels, and yet he shared his

dangers and troubles, stood by him in many tight corners, helped him no

doubt with counsel and advice; and though by his work--for Tietkens was

an eminent surveyor--many hundreds of miles of previously unknown regions

have been mapped, a grateful country has nothing to give in return! We

all know, though, how generous Governments are in such matters. Did not

Ernest Giles die, only the other day, in poverty and neglect? I know he

had a Government billet at 2 pounds 10 shillings a week, noble and

generous reward for the best years of his life spent in toiling over the

howling wilderness of the interior! Doubtless all debts will be

considered paid by the erection of a statue, and nine people out of ten

will not have any notion of who the man was or what he has done! Tietkens

in 1889 led an expedition to determine the true extent of Lake Amadeus,

the confines of which were marked as "probable." His work resulted in

greatly decreasing the area of the lake, which now lies entirely in South

Australia. However, this side of the border he found the lake already

mentioned, and, encircling it, returned to the point on the

Adelaide-Port-Darwin telegraph line from which he had started.

The lake is surrounded, at a distance, by numerous sandstone ranges and

hills, the drainage from them no doubt forming it. Tietkens experienced

rains in this region; no such luck fell our way, and everything was

parched and drought-stricken. I was able to identify the Winnecke Hills,

and one or two others, but, having only a small map of this part of the

country, could not locate many points.

Close to the Winnecke Hills we again surprised two gins hunting, and,

amongst their spoils of the chase, were astonished to see a common

domestic black cat, evidently just killed. It must have wandered far from

home! One of the women took us to their camp and small well, which was in

so awkward a situation that I decided not to do any work upon it. Its

position was in a very steep, narrow gorge in the sandstone, along which

the camels could pass with difficulty. There was no feed for our animals,

except at the mouth of the gorge a mile distant, and then there was but

little. It would take three to work the well, leaving only one to look

after the camp, and "tail" the horses and camels. Since the supply was

problematical, the well almost inaccessible, and waste of time the only

likely result, we passed on--the one and only occasion on which we left a

well untried. Numerous natives must have been in this camp, for I found

no less than thirteen bark "portmanteaus." As the gin had shown us the

well without demur, I left all these untouched. It was a struggle between

honesty and curiosity; but it seemed too mean to take things, however

interesting, when they had been left so confidently unprotected. And yet

birds' nests are robbed without any such scruples! I had no hesitation,

though, in taking the gin with us, in spite of her unwillingness, for

famished horses must be relieved. Once across the hills the sand-ridges

became less high, were dotted with oaks, and even had some herbage

growing on them.

CHAPTER VI

LAKE MACDONALD TO THE DEEP ROCK-HOLES

On the 16th we had breakfast by moonlight, and were well on our way

before daylight. From a ridge higher than the others we got the only

glimpse of the lake that was permitted us by the sandhills. About two

o'clock, the gin, who had been making towards the Davenport Hills

(Tietkens), suddenly turned off and brought us to a little well in the

trough of two ridges--the usual wretched concern, yielding no more than

three bucketsful. We worked far into the night. Having to observe for

latitude I stayed up last, and baled the well before going to rest,

leaving about two gallons in the bottom to allow it to settle before

morning. At daylight we heard loud howls and snarls coming apparently

from the centre of the earth. Further investigation disclosed a lean and

fierce-looking dingo down our well, which, in its frantic struggles to

get out, had covered up our little pool of water and made a horrible mess

of things. I never saw so savage-looking a brute, and, not feeling called

upon to assist it, I ended its troubles with a bullet--a kindly act,

which doubtless, on their return, gave a welcome supply of cheap meat to

the tribe who had only lately retired from the well, and also added to

our small store of dingo-tails, which (at 5 shillings each), so far as we

could see, would be our only means of deriving any profit from our

labours. I think we only got five, and they were lost!

Our position there was lat. 23 degrees 26 minutes, long. 128 degrees 42

minutes. The gin on showing us the well had been at once liberated, a

step which I now rather regretted--but one cannot be unkind to ladies,

even though they are black, naked savages, little better than beasts!

Remembering that she had pointed towards the hills ahead, I steered on

that course, and before long we came on the tracks of a man, woman, and

child, walking in the same direction. Here I saw a pure white spinifex

rat, leaping the tussocks in front of me, but of course had no means of

stopping it.

All that day we followed the tracks, over sandhills, samphire-flats,

through clumps of desert oak, past dry wells, from sunrise until sunset.

Warri and I were ahead for in tracking it is better to be well in

advance--riding and walking in turn until Highlander knocked up and had

to be led. Breaden and Godfrey had awful work behind to get the camels

along. At almost every sandhill one or other of them, usually Bluey,

would drop and refuse to budge an inch until forced by blows. How the

poor brutes strain, and strain again, up the steep, sandy slopes; painful

sight, heart-breaking work--but work done!

We crossed the Davenport Hills shortly before sunset and waited on the

other side for the main party, in case in the bad light and on the hard

rocks our tracks should be missed. As they came up, we heard a distant

call--a gin's--and presently the smoke from a fire was visible. The Monk

had done the least work that day, and was the staunchest horse, indeed

the only one capable of more than walking, so I despatched Godfrey to

surprise the camp, whilst we followed. He rode right on to the tribe, and

was accorded a warmish welcome, one buck casting his spear with great

promptitude. Luckily his aim was poor and the spear passed by Godfrey's

head.

When we arrived on the scene I found Godfrey standing sentinel beneath a

tree, in the branches of which stood at bay a savage of fine proportions.

He had a magnificent beard, dark brown piercing eyes, splendid teeth, a

distinctly Jewish profile, and no decorations or scars on his chest or

body. I shall not forget the colour of his eyes nor their fierce glitter,

for I climbed the tree after him, he trying to prevent my ascent by

blows from a short, heavy stick which I wrested from him, and then with

broken branches of dead mulga, with which he struck my head and hands

unmercifully, alternately beating me and prodding me in the face,

narrowly missing my eyes. If he suffered any inconvenience by being kept

captive afterwards, he well repaid himself beforehand by the unpleasant

time he gave me. And if it was high-handed treatment to capture

unoffending aboriginals, we did not do so without a certain amount of

risk to ourselves; personally I would far sooner lie down all night

chained by the ankle to a tree, than have my head and knuckles laid bare

by blows from dead branches!

After a time I succeeded in securing one end of the chain round the wild

man's ankle, and the other round a lower branch. Then I came down and

left him, whilst we unloaded and had something to eat. We had had a long

day of over ten hours continuous travel, and as the sun had long set we

decided to take no steps for water-getting until morning. Being sure of

soon getting a fresh supply, we gave what water we had to the horses, on

whom the desert was rapidly leaving its mark. As we sat on the packs

round the tree, eating our salt beef, our black friend, with evident

wonder at our want of watchfulness, took the opportunity of coming

quickly to the ground, only to find that he was tethered to the tree. His

anger had now subsided, and, though refusing to make friends, he seemed

grateful when I bound up a place on his arm, where he had been hurt in

his descent from the tree. The spears of his tribe were of better

manufacture than those of the ordinary desert man, having bone barbs

lashed on with sinews. The next morning we moved camp, as, from our

position in a hollow, we should have been at a great disadvantage had the

tribe returned to rescue their mate. We found their well, a deep

rock-hole, half filled in with sand, on the southern slope of a stony

sandhill, situated in a small patch of grass and buck-bush. From the hill

above the rock-hole, a prominent bare range of red rock can be seen to

the South bearing 172 degrees to the highest point (these are probably

the Warman Rocks of Tietkens). We were now within seven miles of the

imaginary line forming the boundary between West and South Australia, the

nearest point to that Colony our journeyings took us.

At first we hoped the hole would prove to be a soakage, but in this we

were disappointed, and had to resort to our old methods of box-sinking

and clearing out the sand. Our work at first was comparatively easy, but

as soon as water-level was reached a great wedge of sand fell in, and

nothing remained but to clear out the whole of the cavity, scraping up

the water as we went lower. From 7.30 a.m. on the 18th, until 2 a.m. on

the 19th, then again from 6.30 a.m. until 4.30 p.m. on the same day, we

slaved away with no more than one and a half hours' interval.

After digging out the sand and hauling it in buckets to the surface we

had a rock-hole nearly conical in shape, twenty-five feet deep, twenty

feet by fifteen at the mouth, narrowing in on all sides to three feet in

diameter at the bottom. The first day and night we laboured until we

literally could no longer move, from sheer exhaustion. Breaden was so

cramped and cold, from a long spell in the wet sand below, that we had to

haul him out, put him in his blankets, and pile them upon him, though the

night was warm. The result of all this toil--not quite ninety gallons of

far from pure water! What a country! one ceaseless battle for water,

which at whatever cost one is only too thankful to get! Of the ninety

gallons, sixty were distributed amongst the horses and camels, the

remainder we kept for our own use and that of the horses when we

continued our journey. Eight miles of sandhills on the 20th took us,

under the native's guidance, to another rock-hole--full to the brim--its

water protected from the sun by an overhanging ledge of rock.

Here we soon had the thirsty animals satisfied, and had time to consider

the rather comical aspect of affairs from the black-fellow's point of

view. How he must have laughed to himself as he watched us toiling away,

coaxing out water drop by drop the days before, when all the time a

plentiful supply was close at hand! Excellent grass surrounds the

rock-hole, enclosed by mulga thickets, so we rested here a day, shooting

a few pigeons and enjoying the first proper wash since April 25th, when

we last camped at a good water. Whilst travelling, of course no water for

washing could be afforded, as every pint was of some service to the

horses.

This rock-hole is in lat. 23 degrees 44 minutes, long. 128 degrees

52 minutes. On May 22nd we continued our journey, marching South over

irregular sandhills, forcing our way through scrubs, until, on the evening

of the 23rd, we were in the latitude of the centre of Lake Amadeus, as it

was formerly marked by Giles. I was anxious to see if Tietkens had perhaps

passed between two lakes, leaving an unnoticed lake on his left. We now

altered our course to the West, sighting a large bare hill some forty

miles distant, which I take to be Mount Skene (Giles). This hill is close

to the high ranges, the Petermann and others, and it would have

simplified our journey to have turned to them, where good waters are

known to exist, but I desired to see what secrets unknown country might

hold, even though it might be only sandhills.

This proved to be the case, and during the next six days we crossed the

most barren wilderness it had been our lot to see, not a bite of food for

camels or horses, who, poor brutes, turned in despair to the spinifex and

munched its prickly spines--not a living thing, no sign of life, except

on two occasions. The first when, at the beginning of the stage, we

captured a young gin, whom I soon released for several reasons, not the

least important of which, was that Warri was inclined to fall a victim to

her charms, for she was by no means ill-looking. The second living thing

we saw was a snake, which we killed; how it came to inhabit so dry a

region I cannot say. Now that our course was Westerly, we had expected to

run between the ridges, but no such luck attended us. True, we marched

between the SAND-ridges, but every now and again a ridge of ROCK running

exactly across our course had to be negotiated. Yet further, and

sandhills thrown up in any irregular order impeded us, then loose sand;

everywhere spinifex, without even its accustomed top-growth, drought, and

desolation! Native tracks were very scarce, even old ones; some of these

we followed, only to find DRY rock-holes and wells at the end of them.

We were all walking again now, ploughing our way through the sand, men

and camels alike exhausted, and the poor ponies bringing up the rear, the

tail-end of a miserable caravan. And they, following behind, were a

useless burden; we could not ride them, and yet for their sakes our

supply of water became less and less; we denied ourselves beef (which

meant at least a bucketful of water to boil out the salt) to keep them

alive; poor faithful things, none but curs could desert them while life

to move was left in their bodies. On the night of the 29th, for our own

safety, I could allow them no water, for so great had been the drain that

our tanks had but a few gallons left. The next was a day of

disappointments. All day we followed the same two tracks, from rock-hole

to rock-hole--all were dry as the sandstone in which Nature had placed

them. We could see where the blacks had scraped out the sand at the

bottom--if THEY could not find water, what chance had we? But every step

took us closer--that is the great consolation in such cases. First, have

perfect faith that water will eventually be found, then each forward move

becomes easy, for you know that you are so much nearer relief. Every dry

hole gives a greater chance that the next will be full.

Near one hole we came on a ceremonial or dancing ground--that is, a

cleared space in the mulga scrub, circular in shape, with a cleanly swept

floor, trodden down by many feet. In the centre stood a sort of altar of

branches and twigs. It was evident that the blacks had danced round and

round this, though for what purpose I cannot say.

As the sun set our faith was rewarded; before us in an outcrop surrounded

by mulga lay two fine rock-holes with an ample supply. What a blessed

relief! In a few minutes the horses were gorged, and hard at work on the

rough grass near the holes. Hardy horses, indeed! Eight days from drink

to drink (not counting what we gave them), and hardly a scrap of feed.

We took a two days' rest for the sake of the grass, and varied our daily

fare of salt beef with small, tufted pigeons, which came in large numbers

to drink. We shot nearly one hundred of them, and ate boiled pigeon three

times a day with the voracity of black-fellows. Nor was Devil-devil

forgotten in the feast; he had become an expert rider, and had a far

better time than poor Val.

The curious fact of some rock-holes being full, whilst others a few miles

off are empty, again exemplifies the very local character of such rain as

visits these parts. The "Deep rock-holes," as we called them (in lat. 24

degrees 20 minutes, long. 127 degrees 20 minutes), are peculiar, for one

is perfectly cylindrical, two feet six inches in diameter going down

vertically to a depth of twenty feet; the other goes down straight for

six feet, and then shelves away under the rock to a depth of at least

twelve feet. It will be seen from our last few days' experience, and from

that of the few days soon to follow, that in this region rock-holes are

numerous. They are invariably situated on low surface outcrops of 'desert

sandstone, surrounded by mulga and grass; beyond that, sand. I take it

that they have been formed in the same way as the granite rock-holes in

the south of the Colony--that is, by decay; that the whole country has

been covered by a deposit of sand, borne by the winds, filling in former

valleys and hollows, leaving only occasional patches of rock still

visible. Their frequent occurrence would then be accounted for by the

fact that the deposit of sand is shallower here than elsewhere. That it

is so is pretty evident, for here the sand-ridges are much lower than

further North, and still further South they disappear. Low cliffs are

seen, and when the latitude of Forrest's route is reached, sandstone

hills are numerous and rock-holes abundant. In the course of ages perhaps

the sand will again be shifted until such reservoirs as the "Deep

rock-holes" are filled in and hidden, or partially covered and converted

by the natives into wells. Supposing a layer of sand to a depth of five

or six feet could be thrown over the valley in which the Deep rock-holes

are situated, the holes would at once be transformed into "Native Wells,"

the term "well" being a misnomer, and apt to suggest a copious supply to

any unacquainted with the interior. I suppose that to the uninitiated no

map is so misleading as that of West Australia, where lakes are salt-bogs

without surface water, springs seldom run, and native "wells" are merely

tiny holes in the rock, yielding from 0 to 200 gallons!

From our position at the rock-holes, by skirting, possibly without

sighting, the end of the Rawlinson Range and steering nearly due

South-West, we should hit off Woodhouse Lagoon of our upgoing journey.

For simplicity in steering I chose a due South-West course, which should

take us a few miles to the East of the lagoon, two hundred miles distant

in a bee-line. I was anxious to see what water it held, and check my work

by re-crossing our track of the previous year; and besides this, the

lagoon lay on our most direct course for the nearest settlements, still

450 miles away on the chart.

Whilst resting at the rock-holes I took the opportunity of giving Bluey a

lesson in manners, much to the entertainment of my companions.

Bluey was a brute of a camel, and used to give an immensity of trouble in

the mornings, galloping off at full speed when he should have quietly

waited to have his nose-line adjusted. Added to this, he would kick and

strike with his fore-legs, so much so that none of us cared about

catching him. One morning whilst Breaden was after the horses, I was

helping Warri collect the camels, and tried my hand with Bluey. At the

moment that I was putting the loop of his line on to the nose-peg, he

reared up and struck me on the chest, his hobble-chain adding power to

the blow, which sent me spinning on to my back. For this and other

assaults I meant to punish him, so shortening his hobbles until his

fore-legs were fastened with no more than an inch or two between, I armed

myself with a stout stick. As I had expected, as soon as I started to put

on his nose-line, off he went as hard as he could, jumping like a

kangaroo, and I after him beating him the while. Round and round we

went, the pace getting slower and slower, until, amidst shrieks of

laughter and shouts of "The Leader wins!" "Bluey wins!" "Stick to it!"

and so forth, from want of breath we came to a stop, and gazed at each

other, unable to go further. It was a tough run, and, like a schoolmaster

caning a small boy, I felt inclined to say, "Remember, my dear Bluey, it

pains me as much as it does you."

The lesson had a most salutary effect, and never again did he gallop away

when being caught in the morning, though he was not a well-behaved beast,

and always the first to give in in the sandhills, even though carrying

the lightest load. His good looks, however, were so much in his favour

that subsequently a wily Afghan paid me a big price for him

(comparatively), and winked to some fellow-countrymen as if he had got

the best of "Eengleeshman." If he was satisfied, I am sure that I was.

CHAPTER VII

THE LAST OF THE RIDGES OF DRIFT SAND

On June 1st we left the rock-holes on a South-West course, crossing

irregular sandhills with the usual vegetation.

On June 2nd we crossed the last sand-ridge of the great northern desert,

and before us spread the rolling gravel-covered undulations of sand,

treeless except for an occasional beefwood or small clump of mulga,

rolling away before us like a swelling ocean. What a blessed relief it

was after the awful toil of crossing Heaven knows how many sand-ridges day

after day!

Taking into account the country north of lat. 24 degrees 45 minutes

only--for though we had a long spell of sand-ridges between the edge of

the desert and Woodhouse Lagoon, and again between that point and Lake

Wells, yet these were comparatively low and less steep than those further

north, and therefore their extent is not included in this reckoning--we

traversed 420 miles on the upgoing journey, and 451 miles on the return

journey--that is, 871 miles of actual travelling over a desert of sand

blown by the wind into parallel ridges of the height and frequency

already described. It will be readily understood, therefore, that we were

not sorry to see the last of them! Working our way step by step, we had

so husbanded the marvellous powers of endurance of our camels that, in

spite of the most terrible privations and difficulties, these noble

animals had silently carried their loads day by day, up and down, over

the burning sand, maddened by flies, their legs worn bare by

spinifex--carried them not without great sufferings and narrow escapes from

death, but yet without one of their number succumbing to the horrors of

the region. Accident and poison had carried off four. And now, alas!

another was to meet the same fate. Poor Satan, my faithful companion in

good times and bad, whose soft velvet nose had so often rubbed my cheek

in friendship, was laid low by the deadly wallflower. In spite of all we

could do for him, in spite of coaxing him yard by yard, Warri and I--as we

had done to Misery before--for a day's march of over fifteen miles, we

were forced to leave him to die. We could not afford to wait a day,

always onward must it be until another water is found, so, with a bullet

through his head, I left him to find his way to the Happy Hunting-grounds

where there are no native wells nor spinifex, only flowing rivers and

groves of quondongs! All this about a camel--"a devil and an ostrich and

an orphan child in one," as we have been told--but remember that often in

the solitary bush one's animals are one's only companions, that on them

one's life depends. How, then, could one fail to love them as friends and

comrades?

Shortly after the scene of Satan's death the mulga clumps became greater

in extent, until for half the day, and more, we wound our way through

dense thickets. The further South we went the thicker they became, until

all day long we marched through scrub, seeing no more than forty yards

ahead, with packs, saddles, and clothes torn to pieces by dead and broken

branches. We saw no smokes, no spinifex rats, no natives, no tracks but

old ones, and these led us only to dry rock-holes. Time after time we

followed recent tracks from hole to hole, and met with no success;

sometimes we were just in time to be too late, and to see that the last

drops had been scraped up by the natives!

On June 6th we followed a fresh track, and found a hole containing thirty

gallons. June 7th and 8th, dense scrub. June 9th, open country, lake

country, gum tree flats, and magnificent green feed, the first we had

seen since leaving Sturt Creek. On our right high sandhills, whose

butt-ends in the distance had the appearance of a range of hills; on our

left thickets of mulga, and beyond, a sandstone range. Kangaroo tracks

were numerous, but none very fresh; these and the number of birds gave us

hopes of water. We must find some soon, or not one horse could survive.

Poor ponies! they were as thin as rakes, famished and hollow-eyed, their

ribs standing out like a skeleton's, a hat would almost hang on their

hip-joints--a sorry spectacle! All day we searched in vain, the animals

benefiting at least by the green herbage. Ours was a dismal camp now at

nights. What little water we could spare to the horses was but as a drop

in the ocean. All night long they shuffled about the camp, poking their

noses into every pack, overturning dishes and buckets, and, finding

nothing, stood with sinking heads as if in despair. Our water-casks had

to be guarded, for in their extremity the horses could smell the water,

and even went so far as to pull out the wooden bung, with their teeth!

Warden, the small pony, was a special offender in this respect. It is

quite startling to wake suddenly in the night and find a gaunt,

ghost-like horse standing over one, slowly shaking his head from side to

side, mournfully clanging his bell as if tolling for his own death. Then

at other times one heard the three bells sounding further and further

off. This meant a hasty putting on of boots and wakening a mate to stir

up the fire and make it blaze; then, following the sound through the

darkness, one came up with the deserters, shuffling along in single file,

with heads to the ground, turning neither to right or left, just

travelling straight away in any direction as fast as their hobbles

allowed. Heaven knows how far they might go in a night unless stopped in

time and dragged back to camp. Indeed blankets do not mean sleep, with

dry horses in the camp!

On the 10th The Monk, our best horse, fell, and was dead in a minute--run

down like a clock. The other two followed slowly behind. Presently. a

salt-lake [This I named Lake Breaden], enclosed by sandhills, barred our

way--a cheerful sight indeed! Hung up in its treacherous bogs, with

nearly empty tanks, dying horses and tired camels, what chance had we?

Speculation of this kind must not be indulged in; time enough to cry out

when the troubles come. Providence was with us as guide, and across the

lake we dodged from sand-spit to sand-spit until we had beaten it, and not

one animal was bogged.

The night of the 10th our supply was down to three gallons. None could be

spared for the horses now, none could be spared for beef-boiling, only a

little for bread, and a drop each to drink. Every rock-hole we had

seen--but one--was dry. Alexander Spring would be dry. We should have to

make for the Empress Spring, fifty miles beyond. Every thing pointed to

the probability of this sequence of events, therefore the greatest care

must be exercised. The horses would die within a few miles, but the

camels were still staunch in spite of the weakening effect of the

sand-ridges, so there was no need for anxiety. Yet we could not help

feeling anxious; one's nerves get shaky from constant wear and tear, from

want of food and rest. We had been in infinitely worse positions than

this; in fact, with health and strength and fresh camels no thought of

danger would have been entertained, but it is a very different matter

after months of constant strain on body and mind. Faith--that is the

great thing, to possess--faith that all is for the best, and that all

will "pan out" right in the end.

The days were closing in now, the nights were cold, so we were away

before sunrise, and, leaving the rolling sand, came again into mulga

thickets, with here and there a grassy flat, timbered with bloodwoods--the

tail end of a creek no doubt rising in the sandstone cliffs we had seen

ahead of us. Shortly after one o'clock a sight, that brought more joy to

us than to any Robinson Crusoe, met our eyes--a track, a fresh footprint

of a gin. Whether to follow it forward or back? That was the question. On

this might hang more than the lives of the horses. In nine cases out of

ten it is safer to follow them forward--this was the tenth! "Which way?"

said Godfrey, who was steering. "Back," said I, for what reason I cannot

say. So back we followed the lady to see where she had camped, twisting

and turning, now losing her tracks, and, casting, finding them again,

until we were ready to stamp with impatience and shout D--n the woman!

why couldn't she walk straight? Two hours brought us our reward, when an

opening in the scrub disclosed a deep-banked creek, fringed with

white-stemmed gums, and, beyond, a fire and natives camped. They all ran,

nor did we care, for water must be there. Glorious sight! a small and

green-scummed puddle, nestling beneath the bank, enclosed by a bar of

rock and the bed of shingle. Before many minutes we had the shovels at

work, and, clearing away the shingle and sand, found a plentiful supply.

All HAD ended well, and just in time to save the horses. Considering the

want of feed, and the hardships they had already suffered, they had done

a remarkable stage. A stage of eleven days (from the evening of May 31st

to the evening of June 11th)--a distance of 160 miles on the map, and a

good many more allowing for deviations, during which they had but little

water. We had brought them through safely, but at the cost of how much

trouble to ourselves may be judged from previous pages and the following

figures. We left the Deep rock-holes with exactly 102 gallons of water;

decrease by breaking through the scrub must have been considerable, as we

had nearly thirty gallons of this amount in canvas bags.

Added to this must be the 30 gallons we got from the small rock-hole--that

is, 132 gallons in all. Of this supply the horses had 6 gallons each the

first night, 3 gallons each subsequently until the day The Monk died and

their ration was stopped. From 132, we take 90 (the horses' share).

This leaves 42 gallons for four men and a dog (which drinks as much as

a man) for eleven days; this supply was used for washing (an item hardly

appreciable), bread-making, drinking, and beef-boiling, the last the most

ruinous item; for dry-salted beef is very salt indeed, and unless boiled

thoroughly (it should be boiled in two waters) makes one fearfully

thirsty. What would otherwise have been an easy task was made difficult

and uncomfortable by the presence of the horses, but we were well

rewarded by the satisfaction of seeing them alive at the finish.

CHAPTER VIII

WOODHOUSE LAGOON REVISITED

June 12th, 13th, 14th, we rested at the welcome creek and had time to

examine our surroundings. I made the position of our camp to be in lat.

26 degrees 0 minutes, long. 125 degrees 22 minutes, and marked a gum tree

near it with C7. Therefore I concluded that this was the Blythe Creek, of

Forrest; everything pointed to my conclusion being correct, excepting the

failure to find Forrest's marked tree, and to locate his Sutherland

Range. However, the bark might have grown over the marking on the

tree--and several trees showed places where bark had been cut out by the

natives for coolimans, and subsequently closed again--or the tree might

have been burned, or blown down. As to the second, I am convinced that

Forrest mistook the butt-ends of the sand-ridges cut off by Lake Breaden

for a range of hills, for he only saw them from a distance. The creek

heads in a broken sandstone range of tabletops and cliffs; from its head

I sighted a peculiar peak, about nine miles distant, which I took to be

Forrest's "Remarkable Peak," marked on his map. From the sketch that I

made, Sir John recognised the peak at once. From the cliffs the sandhills

round Lake Breaden look exactly like a range of hills "covered," as

Forrest said, "with spinifex." Another proof of the non-existence of, at

all events, the northern portion of the Sutherland Range, is afforded by

Breaden's experience. As I have already stated, he accompanied Mr.

Carr-Boyd on a prospecting trip along this part of Forrest's Route. From

his diary I see that they passed about three miles North of Forrest's

peak, which Breaden identified, though by Mr. Carr-Boyd's reckoning they

should have been twenty miles from it. Travelling due West across the

creek on which we were camped, they found a large clay-pan, and were then

hourly expecting to cross the Sutherland Range. However, no range was

seen, only high sandhills. That Breaden's reckoning was correct was soon

proved, for he and I walked from our camp and six miles West found the

big clay-pan and their camel tracks. The lagoon was dry, though they had

found it full of water. It is clear, therefore, that the range exists

only as sandhills, north of lat. 26 degrees 0 minutes. Numerous other

creeks rise in the broken range, and no doubt their waters, after rain,

find their way into Lake Breaden.

Our camp was on the longest of them, though others that I followed down

were broader. Above our camp, that is to the South-East, a ledge of rock

crossed the creek forming a deep little pool which would hold plenty of

water. I much regretted being unable to find Forrest's tree--but a tree

unless close to some landmark is not easily come upon--as at its foot he

buried a bottle holding letters and his position for that camp.

We saw no more of the natives who had been camped on the creek, but left

some articles that should be of great use to them. Everything of weight

that was not absolutely necessary was left here, and this included a

number of horseshoes.

On, the 15th we were ready to start, and marched on a West-South-West

course until we should sight Mount Worsnop, and turn West to the

Woodhouse Lagoon. A mile and a half from our camp we crossed another

creek, and on its banks a tree marked G.H.S., and NARROO cut in the bark.

Evidently the prospectors had been pushing out in our absence, or else it

was another overland party from South Australia, for Forrest's route has

become quite a fashionable track, some half-dozen parties having crossed

the Colony in this latitude. On the next day we sighted Mount Worsnop

from eight miles (from the East it is more prominent than from the

South). This was a day of miracles! It RAINED--actually RAINED! The first

rain we had seen in the interior--not a hard rain, but an all-day

drizzle. How cold it made us, and how wet!--not that we minded that. But

the winter was approaching, we were daily getting further south, and with

our blood thin and poor, our clothes of the lightest and most ragged,

accustomed to scorching heat, we felt the cold rain very much indeed. Our

teeth chattered, and our hands were so numbed that at night we could

hardly undo the straps and ropes of our loads. A cold night, accompanied

by a heavy dew, followed the rain; and for the first time on either

journey we pitched a tent. During this, Devil-devil, wet and shivering,

sneaked into my blankets for warmth, for, as a rule, he slept outside, in

a little nest I made for him in one of the camel saddles. Such sudden

changes in temperature made any "Barcoo" sores most painful; but

fortunately we had suffered comparatively little from this unpleasant

disease. A beautiful sun dried and warmed us in the morning, and crossing

a narrow salt-lake (probably a continuation of Lake Breaden), we reached

our old friend Woodhouse Lagoon on June 17th, nearly a year having

elapsed since our first visit, August 19th, in 1896.

We were disappointed, but not surprised, to find the lagoon nearly dry,

holding no more than six inches of water in the deepest place. But

curiously enough Alexander Spring, found dry before, was now brimful,

evidently filled by the recent rain, which had not been heavy enough to

fill the lagoon. Here we camped for two days, which we could ill afford,

as already we had to cut down our rations, and before long our meals

would dwindle to one instead of two a day. Godfrey's sickness

necessitated a delay--he suffered from such fearful pains in his head,

poor fellow! Often after a day's march he would collapse, and lie prone

with his head nearly bursting from pain. A drink of strong tea would

relieve him, but when water was scarce he had just to suffer.

I had a splendid chance of replenishing our larder, and, fool that I was,

I missed it. I was riding The Warden to the spring, when a kangaroo

popped up on his hind legs, and sat looking at me. The Warden would not

keep still; the surprised kangaroo actually waited for me to dismount and

aim my rifle, but just as I fired The Warden jerked my arm and I missed,

and away bounded many a good meal--and with it the pony! So I continued

my way on foot, and was rewarded by finding some interesting things. A

big camp of natives had been here in our absence; near the spring in the

scrub was a cleared corroboree ground, twenty feet by fifty yards,

cleaned of all stones and enclosed by a fallen brush-fence (this older

than the other work, showing this is a favourite meeting-place). At one

end was a sort of altar of bushes, and hidden beneath them a long, carved

board. This I took, and afterwards gave to Sir John Forrest. In every

tree surrounding the clearing a stone was lodged in the forked branches.

The pile of stones on Mount Allott had not been touched, nor had my board

been removed. On it I found an addition to my directions to the

lagoon--an addition made by two prospectors, Swincer and Haden, who had

been in this locality two months after our first visit. I did not meet

either Mr. Swincer or Mr. Haden, but I heard that my board had been of

great service to them, for without it they would not have known of the

lagoon, where they camped some time. G.H.S. carved on a tree near the

Blythe Creek was also due to them; I believe that was about their

furthest point reached, from which they returned to Lake Darlot. On their

return they depended on a water which failed them, and they had in

consequence a narrow squeak for their lives. On nearing camp I met

Breaden and Warri, who had started to track me up, for Warden's return

with an empty saddle had caused a little anxiety.

I observed for latitude that night, and was pleased to find that my two

positions for the lagoon agreed almost exactly, both in latitude and

longitude--a very satisfactory result considering the distance we had

travelled.

On the 20th we started again, steering a course a little South of West,

my intention being to round the North end of Lake Wells, and cut the

Bonython Creek, with the object of seeing if another oasis, on our

suggested stock route from South Australia, could be found. It need

hardly be said that any idea of a stock route from Hall's Creek is

absolutely impracticable. Between Woodhouse Lagoon and Lake Wells the

country consists of low sand-ridges, on which grows an abundance of

acacia bushes and others suitable for camels, alternating with open

spinifex plains, mulga scrubs in which good grass grows, and nearer the

lagoon one or two small grass plains. All through cliffs and bluffs are

met with, from which small creeks ending in a grassy avenue run; and, as

Lake Wells is approached, table-topped hills and low ranges occur, and

occasional flats of salt-bush country. We had no longer any difficulty

with regard to water, the rain having left frequent puddles where any

rocky or clayey ground was crossed. In the sand no water could be seen;

indeed we had a sharp shower one morning, water was running down the

slopes of sand, but half an hour afterwards no sign of it could be seen

on the surface. On the 23rd we sighted, and steered for, a very prominent

headland in a gap in a long range of cliffs. Sandhills abut right on to

them, and dense scrub surrounds their foot. The headland, which I named

Point Robert, after my brother, is of sandstone, and stands squarely and

steep-cliffed above a stony slope of what resembles nothing so much as a

huge heap of broken crockery.

We camped at the head of a little gorge that night, having found a rocky

pool; the rain cleared off, out came the stars, and a sharp frost

followed, the first of the year. The character of the country was

extraordinarily patchy; after crossing ridges of sand, and then an open,

stony plain, on the 25th we camped on a little flat of salt-bush and

grass. Our position was lat. 26 degrees 20 minutes, long. 123 degrees 23

minutes, and seven miles to the North-West a flat-topped hill, at the end

of a range, stood out noticeably above the horizon of scrub; this I named

Mount Lancelot, after another brother. The next day it rained again,

making the ground soft and slippery. In the evening, to our surprise and

disgust, further passage that day was cut off by a salt swamp. Not

wishing to get fixed in a lake during rain, we camped early, pitched our

tent and hoped for the rain to stop--an unholy wish in this country, but

salt-lakes are bad enough without rain! The next two days were spent in

trying to find a crossing, for we found ourselves confronted by a series

of swamps, samphire flats, and lake channels running away to the North as

far as could be seen by field-glasses--a chain of lakes, hemmed in by

sandhills, an unmarked arm of Lake Wells. If we could not cross here we

might have to go seventy miles out of our way, round the South of Lake

Wells, and then back to the Bonython.

CHAPTER IX

ACROSS LAKE WELLS TO LAKE DARLOT

Four attempted crossings ended in the hopeless bogging of horses and

camels, entailing the carrying of loads and saddles. At last we could not

get them to face the task at all; and small wonder, for floundering about

in soft, sticky mud is at least unpleasant! I am pretty confident that we

could have managed to get the camels through somehow, but the horses were

far too weak to struggle. Poor old Highlander sank to his belly,

struggled for a minute just long enough to get further engulfed, and then

threw up the sponge and lay panting until we came to his rescue. We had a

job to get him to the shore, and only succeeded by digging out two legs

on one side, putting a rope round them, then the same on the other, and

by violent efforts dragged him on to his side. Then, one at his head and

the rest on his legs, we turned him over and over until we came on firmer

ground, when we put the ropes on his legs again and by main force hauled

him on his flank to the margin of the lake, where he lay half dead. The

others fared but little better; it was evident that a crossing could not

be effected except at the cost of the horses.

From a sandhill near our camp numerous hills could be seen, the more

prominent of which I named. To the West-North-West a table-top hill

(Mount Courtenay, after my brother-in-law) standing in front of a

prominent tableland; to the northward Mount Lancelot; to the

East-South-East a line of cliffs standing above stony rises, at the

southern end a bluff point (Point Katharine, after my sister); and eight

miles to the South-South-West, two flat-topped hills, close

together--these I named Mount Dora and Mount Elisabeth after two of my

sisters. Little did I think that I was never to see again the dear face

of one of them! As a last hope, I and Breaden went across the lake to

these hills to look for a break in the swamps. From Mount Elisabeth an

extensive view can be obtained, but no signs of the lake coming to an

end. From Mount Elisabeth, which, by the way, is of quartzite, I took the

following bearings: Mount Courtenay 331 degrees, Mount Lancelot 23

degrees, Point Katharine, 78 degrees. To the West numerous broken

tablelands can be seen, and the same to the South. Clearly there was no

chance of crossing this lake or rounding it on the North, for the white

streak of salt could be seen for miles and miles in that direction. There

was nothing to be done but to skirt the edge of the lake, and if

connected with Lake Wells to skirt that too, until a crossing could be

found. So we loaded up and steered East and then South-East to round the

swamps. Due West of Point Katharine, four miles distant, we found a large

freshwater lagoon surrounded by stony banks and ridges. It contained only

a few inches of water, but is capable of holding it to a depth of six

feet. Beyond it is a stony cotton-bush flat, and on it numerous white

clay-holes of water, almost hidden by the herbage.

Water-hens were so numerous that we could not pass by so good an

opportunity, and camped early in consequence, spending the rest of the

day in shooting these birds. The rest was a good thing for Breaden, too,

who had been hurt by Kruger as he struggled in the salt-bog. The next

morning we struck South, and by night found the lake again in our way.

From a high bank of rocks and stones we could see the arm that had first

blocked us, running round the foot of the hills and joining a larger lake

which spread before us to the South. Across it some high, broken

tablelands could be seen. There was no doubt from our position that this

was Lake Wells, but I had expected to find a tableland (the Van Treuer of

Wells) fringing the Northern shore. However, the Van Treuer does not run

nearly so far East as Wells supposed when he sighted it from the South.

No crossing could be effected yet, so the next day we continued along the

margin of the lake, along a narrow strip of salt-bush country hemmed in

between the lake and sandhills. On July 2nd we found the narrow place

where Wells had crossed in 1892; the tracks of his camels were still

visible in the soft ground. The crossing being narrow, and the bog

shallow--no more than a few inches above a hard bed of rock--we had no

trouble whatever.

We now followed the same course as Wells had done, passing Lyell-Brown

Bluff--from which Mount Elisabeth bears 339 degrees--and Parson's Bluff,

eventually striking the Bonython Creek. This, as described by Wells, is a

flat, shallow, and, in places, but ill-defined watercourse. In it are one

or two good deep pools, of which one is probably permanent. Fringing the

banks is a narrow strip of salt-bush and grass; beyond that mulga and

coarse grass. This narrow belt of good country continues down to the

lake, and as we saw it just after the rain looked fresh and green. There

is no extent, but sufficient to form a good resting-place for travelling

stock. Some cattle-tracks of recent date were visible, a small wild herd

of stragglers probably from the Gascoyne. Turkeys were seen in fair

numbers, but they were the shyest birds I have ever come across--so much

so that we never got a shot. The late rain had left so many pools and

puddles that we had no chance of waiting for them at their

watering-place. One of the wild cattle beasts, amongst which must be a

bull, for we saw tracks of quite young calves, would have been very

acceptable, for our meat had come to an end. In consequence we wasted no

time in further examining the Bonython, but made tracks for Lake Darlot.

The days were getting so short now that, in order to accomplish a good

stage, we had to rise long before daylight and collect the camels and

horses, following their tracks by means of a fire-stick. In this way we

were enabled to get a start at sunrise, having breakfasted--in

imagination!

Several parties of prospectors have been to Lake Wells, and at first we

followed a regular pad; however, it did not seem to be going very direct,

so we left it. Between Lake Wells and Lake Darlot--a distance of about

130 miles--the country consists of open mulga thickets with a coarse

undergrowth of grass, alternating with spinifex desert and sand.

Occasional low cliffs and ridges occur, and nearer Lake Darlot numerous

ranges, from which the Erlistoun Creek takes its rise. Amongst these

hills we saw the first auriferous country since leaving the vicinity of

Hall's Creek, and in the Erlistoun the first permanent water (probably)

since leaving the Sturt Creek, a distance of about 800 miles. A narrow

belt of grass and salt-bush fringes the Erlistoun, and in the winter looks

healthy and succulent; however, a few months soon alters that, and in the

summer all is parched and yellow. How pleasant it was to see such

country, after the dreary desert! Tracks and roads were now numerous as

we approached civilisation. The same lake lay between us and the

settlement that had caused Conley, Egan, and myself so much trouble in

former days. Choosing the same narrow channel where I had formerly

crossed, we managed very fairly well. Most of the camels bogged, but some

did not, nor did the horses, and our loads now consisted of little else

but the saddles, and were therefore no great weight to carry. The weather

was lovely now, bright warm days and frosty nights; unfortunately this

tends to sharpen the appetite, which we had small means of satisfying.

For the last ten days we had had nothing but damper, and not much of

that, on which we spread tinned milk which had previously been discarded

as unfit for use, being dark brown instead of white, and almost solid.

Nevertheless it was better than nothing; a ten hours' march, begun on an

empty stomach, and finished on a slice of bread, cannot be indulged in

for many days before it leaves its mark. We were not sorry, therefore, to

reach Lake Darlot township on July 15th, and, choosing a nice spot, made

camp. This day we saw the first white face since April 9th, and our

journey was practically over.

The excellent feed growing all over the flats near Lake Darlot gave us a

good opportunity of recruiting our animals' strength. For nearly a month

we moved slowly about between Lake Darlot and Lawlers prospecting in a

desultory sort of way. Our departure from the former place was deeply

regretted--by the butcher, whose trade had increased by leaps and bounds

during our stay. "I never see'd coves as could stack mutton like you

chaps," he said, in satisfied wonder; "why, a whole blooming sheep don't

seem to last you a day; can't ye stop until I get some bullocks up the

track?" Certainly that was the best fresh mutton I have ever tasted, and

no doubt we DID do our duty by it.

By degrees the camels fattened and fattened, until the combination of

flesh and the hard muscles their work had formed, made it difficult to

believe how great the trials were they had been through. The horses were

also getting less like skeletons, though they take far longer than camels

to regain their strength; as a rule, if they have been through great

hardships they never do regain it and are, practically, useless

afterwards. Stoddy, whose back had been bad, was also recovering--this

the only sore back amongst them after so many miles of country well

calculated to knock both packs and backs to pieces.

CHAPTER X

THE END OF THE EXPEDITION

By easy stages and frequent halts we eventually reached Coolgardie, after

an absence of thirteen months. Of these, ten and a half months were

occupied in travelling, during which we traversed a little over three

thousand miles. Of this, 550 miles was traversed by roads and tracks,

whilst the remainder was through country beyond the limits of any

settlements.

SOURCES OF WATER SUPPLY.

FOUND ON UPGOING AND RETURN JOURNEYS BETWEEN THE LIMITS OF SETTLEMENT.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Holding Nearly Quite

Water. Dry. Dry.

Springs 2 1 Helena, Empress, and Alexander.

(Forrest).

Creeks 9 * Including Christmas, Janet, Mary,

Margaret, and Sturt in Kimberley;

Blyth,+ Bonython,+ Erlistoun.

Clay-pans 2 4

Rocky pools

in gorges 8 **

Rock-holes 3 3 21 Of these 4 were completely drained,

and 2 left with water.

Native Wells 8 3 22 Of these 6 were completely drained,

and 5 left with water.

* Numerous small dry watercourses were seen.

** Numerous dry pools in rocky gorges were seen.

+ The only two in the desert area.

TABLE SHOWING CHARACTER AND EXTENT OF COUNTRY TRAVERSED.

--------------------------------------------------------

Upgoing Return Total in

Journey. Journey. Miles.

--------------------------

From edge of desert

to Woodhouse Lagoon 220 MIXED COUNTRY including

From Woodhouse Lagoon low sandhills, spinifex

to edge of desert 260 plain. Desert Gum flats

From end of Sturt Creek with occasional scrubs

to Gordon Hills 50 and patches of grass

---- 530

From Woodhouse Lagoon UNDULATING DESERT of

to Family Well 370 spinifex, stones, and

From Deep Rock-holes gravel, with occasional

to Woodhouse Lagoon 210 scrubs.

---- 580

From Family Well

to Mount Bannerman 420 SAND-RIDGES. Desert of

From Gordon Hills sand blown into

to Deep Rock-holes 450 parallel ridges running

---- 870 on an average course of

East and West, varying

in height from

20-100 feet.

From Cutmore's Well

to edge of desert. 100 COUNTRY OTHER THAN

From Mount Bannerman DESERT, including open

to Hall's Creek 150 scrubs with grass, open

From Hall's Creek grass plains, belts of

to end of Sturt Creek 160 grass fringing river

From edge of desert banks, small oases,

to Lake Darlot 50 and hilly country.

Oases (Helena Spring,

Woodhouse Lagoon,

Lake Wells, &c.) 10

---- 470

-----

2,450 *

550 By roads and tracks.

-----

3,000 **

-----

* Of which 2,210 were through country unmapped except where routes of

previous explorers were crossed.

** Total mileage in round numbers, taking into account all deviations.

From the above table it will be seen that the greater part of the

interior of the Colony seen by us is absolutely useless to man or beast.

It is possible that between the Lake Darlot goldfield and the 25th

parallel of latitude isolated areas of auriferous country may be found,

though nothing that we saw proves this to be likely; and I base my

opinion only on the facts that quartz and ironstone are known to occur in

the vicinity of Lake Augusta and the Warburton Range. It is also possible

(and this I have already discussed) that a travelling route for stock may

be formed from South Australia along the 26th parallel as far as Mounts

Allott and Worsnop, and thence VIA Lake Wells and the Bonython Creek. to

the Erlistoun Creek and Lake Darlot.

Failing either the finding of gold, or the formation of a stock route

from oasis to oasis, I can see no use whatever to which this part of the

interior can be put.

North of the 25th parallel the country is absolutely useless until the

confines of the Kimberley district (about lat. 19 degrees) are reached.

That a stock route through the desert is quite impracticable we have

clearly demonstrated. Even supposing that there was any water supply,

there is no feed; nothing but spinifex grows in more than wee patches at

very long intervals. As any one who has followed me through this book can

see, our water supply was most precarious, depending as we did upon

rock-holes and native wells (which at any time may be found dry), and

these yielded an only just sufficient quantity to keep no more than nine

camels from dying for want of a drink--every well that we found, with the

exception of one or two, was drained and left empty. Indeed on our two

journeys there are only two watering-places on which I should care to

depend, viz., the Empress Spring and Helena Spring. Throughout our journey

we never once found water by chance--though chance took us to more than

one dry hole--but found it only by systematic and patient work, involving

many scores of miles of tracking, the capture of the wild aboriginals, and

endless hours of manual labour. Without having resorted to these

expedients I have no hesitation in saying that neither we nor the camels

would be living today, for though without having done so, other parties

have crossed as great an extent of arid country, it must be remembered

that our journey was accomplished through infinitely worse country, and

with a party exactly half as large as the smallest of the previous

expeditions across the interior. Where, with a large number of camels, it

would be possible to carry a great quantity of water and do long stages,

using the water for camels as well as men, with a small number such

tactics as going straight ahead, and trusting to luck, could only end in

disaster.

It has been my fate, in all my exploration work, to find none but useless

country, though when merely prospecting on the goldfields I have been

more fortunate. So far, therefore, as being of benefit to mankind, my

work has had no better result than to demonstrate to others, that part of

the interior that may best be avoided. No mountain ranges, no rivers, no

lakes, no pastoral lands, nor mineral districts has it brought to light;

where the country was previously unknown it has proved only its

nakedness; nevertheless I do not regret one penny of the cost or one

minute of the troubles and labours entailed by it. Nor, I am confident,

do my companions repine because they wasted so many months of their lives

in such a howling wilderness. May good fortune attend them wherever they

go; for they were brave and true men, and to them I once more express my

feelings of thanks and gratitude for their untiring energy and help

through all our journeyings. I verily believe that so large an extent of

country, good or bad, has never been travelled through by a more cheerful

party, or by one, the members of which were more in accord; and to the

unanimity, and ready co-operation that prevailed throughout the camp, the

successful issue of the expedition must in a large degree be ascribed.

Before leaving Coolgardie I had to perform the melancholy task of selling

off my camels and all belongings. I have seldom felt anything so deeply

as the breaking up of our little band, and the sale of my faithful

animals. However, it was a matter of necessity, for much as I wished to

pension off my favourites I was not in a position to do so, and

eventually made my exit from the Colony in much the same state as that in

which I arrived.

Before leaving for home I spent some time in Perth, where the

Surveyor-General, Mr. Johnston, did all in his power to assist me in the

preparation of plans and maps. These, together with all information I had

gathered, I placed at the disposal of the Government, for which they were

pleased to express many thanks. At a gathering in the Perth Town Hall, at

which I was present on the day of my departure, Sir John Forrest, the

Premier, proposed the toast of the guest and said many kind things, to

which I replied: ". . . I regret that I am only able to give such a bad

report of the far interior of this Colony; but even so, and even though

it has not been our fortune to discover any country useful either to the

pastoralist or miner, yet I hope we have done good service in proving the

nature of a large tract of country previously unknown. Our late journey

will, I think, give an answer to the oft-repeated question, "Does the

gold-belt extend in a direct line from Coolgardie to Kimberley?" and the

answer is in the negative. At least we have demonstrated the uselessness

of any persons wasting their time and money in farther investigation of

that desolate region. Such an expedition might be undertaken for

pleasure, but this I should not recommend, for few countries present such

difficulties of travel or such monotony of scenery or occupation.

Although I am leaving this country, probably for good, I would not wish

it to be thought that I have no faith in it, for the late developments

and marvellous returns from the goldfields should convert the most

sceptical. Nor have the other sources of wealth to the Colony failed to

impress their importance on me. . . Every one is glad to return to his

home, and I am no exception; but however happy I am at the prospect of

again seeing my native land, yet I cannot say goodbye to the numerous

friends I have been fortunate in making in this Colony without sincere

feelings of regret. Every day the Old Country, which we are all proud to

call Home, and the New are learning to understand each other better, and

the bond of friendship between them is ever strengthening. If I have been

able to promote these feelings in however small a degree, and have been

able to show that the Home-born is still able, and willing, to take his

share in the pioneer work of this continent of Australia, as his fathers

were before him, then I have not worked in vain."

APPENDIX

The foregoing pages would, I fear, give the reader a very bad impression

of the Colony of West Australia, until it was fully understood that my

experiences relate solely to the interior and to that part of the

interior the borders of which can only be reached by a journey of some

four hundred miles by train from the coast--that part of the Colony, in

fact, which lies to the East of longitude 121 degrees.

Now West Australia is so large that, despite the desert nature of so much

of it, there still remain many thousand square miles of country suitable

for settlement and rich in mineral wealth.

The settled portions show a picture the reverse of that I have been

compelled to exhibit in the course of my travels.

The Colony altogether covers no less an area than 975,920 square miles, a

little over eight times the area of Great Britain and Ireland. It

occupies the whole of the continent West of the he 129th east meridian.

In 1826 a party of soldiers and convicts formed the first settlement at

King George's Sound. Three years later a settlement was established on

the banks of the Swan River. From this modest beginning the progress of

the settlement, which at first was slow in the extreme, came with a rush

on the discovery of gold. The population of the Colony now exceeds

150,000 souls, and there can be no doubt that this population will be

substantially added to annually, when the advantages which the country

possesses, over and beyond its auriferous districts, come to be more

generally known and recognised.

The progress of prosperity and civilisation undoubtedly runs parallel

with railway progress, and since the Government of the Colony became

autonomous that progress has been rapid. Seven years ago the total

mileage was 193. There is now, as I write, a total length of 1,200 miles,

1,000 of which have been constructed during the past six years. Of these

1,200 miles, 923 belong to the State and the balance to a private

company, whose line runs from Perth, along the coast northward, to the

port of Geraldton. But though lines have been laid from Perth to

Coolgardie, Kalgoorlie, and Cue, settlers are breaking ground farther

afield, and further extensions both in the direction of the agricultural

districts and of the goldfields are contemplated. The State railways,

which may be looked upon as completely efficient, have paid, according to

a statement in the West Australia year-book, a dividend of 11 1/2 per

cent.

Although I have elsewhere described the primitive nature of the postal

arrangements on the goldfields, it must be borne in mind that this

relates to early days; now, the number of letters passing through the

offices reaches 26,000,000; of newspapers, 17,000,000; while parcels to

the extent of 5,000,000, and over a quarter of a million of postcards,

and 1,000,000 telegrams were dispatched in one year, although the Postal

Department all over the Colony is shockingly managed. There are no less

than 5,429 miles of telegraph line open. The rapid increase displayed in

these figures is the outcome, undoubtedly, of the gold discovery. The

first official record of gold production was in 1886, when the yield for

the six months ending that year was 302 oz., valued at 1,148 pounds. The

yield for 1897 was over 700,000 oz., representing rather more than 2 1/4

millions sterling.

Owing to the "sporadic and pockety" nature of the finds it was at first

supposed that gold would only be found in superficial deposits. This

supposition has now been completely upset by the result of sinking

operations at Kalgoorlie and elsewhere.

The richness of the Western Australian goldfields is established beyond

the possibility of a doubt, and though over-capitalisation and want of

proper management have had their customary ill-effects upon the industry,

yet the undoubted and immense value of the auriferous yield should make

the ultimate prosperity of the Colony a matter of certainty.

But the Colony does not rely alone upon its gold for prosperity. It has

other and substantial sources of revenue in lead, copper, tin, coal, and

timber, to say nothing of the excellence of the agricultural outlook.

The mineral district of Northampton, connected with the port of Geraldton

by railway, is rich in lead and copper. Tin has been found in great

quantity at Greenbushes in the South-West. Thirty years ago these

districts were worked for their ores, but a great scarcity of labour,

combined with a sudden fall in the prices of the metals, led to the

abandonment of the mines. Since, however, the discovery of telluride ores

at Kalgoorlie the abandoned lead and copper mines have recovered their

old value, and many mining leases have quite recently been taken out

in the Northampton district for the purpose of working them, and after

the preliminary work of emptying the old shafts of the water which has

accumulated, has been accomplished, there is every probability that

smelting operations will yield a handsome profit. Coal has been found on

the Collie River district and, tested by the Government, has been proved

to be of good quality and to exist in seams varying from two to four

feet in thickness.

The Government, by way of trial, raised 1,000 tons of coal at a cost of

about 16 shillings per ton. The field is open to private enterprise, and

as the land may be leased on the lowest possible terms there seems to be

a good opening for the capitalist.

In considering other sources of revenue in the Colony I should be

inclined to put that of the timber industry at the head, and this the

more so that steps have been taken by the West Australian Government for

the proper conservation, systematic working, and efficient replanting of

the forest-lands. Hitherto in young colonies the disafforesting of

districts has been for agricultural and other purposes recklessly

proceeded with. Warned by example, the West Australian Government have

taken steps for the preservation and utilisation of their valuable

forest-lands. In 1895 Mr. J. Ednie-Brown was engaged by the Bureau of

Agriculture to make a tour of inspection in the Colony. This gentleman

having had experience as Conservator of Forests both in South Australia

and New South Wales, was eminently fitted for his position as Conservator

in West Australia. Having made his tour in 1896 he issued his report. It

is to this report I am indebted for the information contained in this

brief notice.

The principal commercial forests lie in the South-Western districts of

the Colony.

Mr. Ednie-Brown gives a list of thirty-five varieties of indigenous

forest-trees, but as only a certain number of them are known to be of

real commercial value, I shall confine my remarks to the better known and

more widely used species. These are: Jarrah (EUCALYPTUS MARGINATA), Karri

(EUCALYPTUS DIVERSICOLOR), Tuart (EUCALYPTUS GOMPHOCEPHALA). Sandalwood

(SANTALUM CYGNORUM).

In addition to these are many important but secondary forest-trees, as

the Wattle (ACACIA SALIGNA), Raspberry Jam (ACACIA ACUMINATA), Badjong

(ACACIA MICROBOTRYA), Peppermint Tree (AGONIS FLEENOSA), Banksias of all

sorts--the Sheoaks (CASUARINA FRASERIANA, GLAUCA and DECAISNEANA), the

Red Gum (EUCALYPTUS CALOPHYLLA), Wandoo (EUCALYPTUS REDUNEA), Mallee

(EUCALYPTUS OLEOSA).

There are many other trees of some value, but the foregoing represent the

chief.

The total area of the principal forest regions of Western Australia

covers no less than 20,400,000 acres, made up of:--

Jarrah 8,000,000 acres.

Karri 1,200,000

Tuart 200,000

Wandoo 7,000,000

York Gum, Yate Sandalwood,

and Jam 4,000,000

----------

20,400,000

Jarrah is, without doubt, the principal forest-tree of Western Australia.

This tree is dark grey in colour, with the bark strongly marked in deeply

indented furrows. It grows on an average to a height of 90 to 120 feet,

with stems 3 feet to 5 feet in diameter, running 50 to 60 feet to the

first branch. There are, of course, very many larger individual

specimens. The wood is red in colour, polishes well and works easily,

and weighs when seasoned about 63 lbs. to the cubic foot. It is

extensively used for wood-paving, piles, jetties, bridges, boat-building,

furniture, and railway sleepers. It makes splendid charcoal, and when cut

at the proper season exhibits remarkable durability both in the ground as

fence-posts and in water.

Karri is the giant tree of West Australia. It is extremely graceful in

appearance, with a yellowish-white smooth bark, which flakes off each

year like that of our planes. The trees grow to a height of 200 feet,

with a diameter of 4 feet at a height of 3 or 4 feet from the ground, and

the first branch generally occurs at a height of 120 to 150 feet from the

base. This tree does not occur in such numbers as the Jarrah, its

field of growth being limited. Its timber resembles that of the Jarrah,

but cannot be wrought so easily, though for purposes of street-paving it

is superior. It is this wood which is so extensively used in London. It

is also of value for bridge planking, shafts, spokes, felloes, waggon

work, and beams.

Tuart is also comparatively limited in extent. It attains to a height of

100 to 150 feet, having a diameter of 7 to 9 feet at the base and about

40 feet to the first branch. Its timber is extraordinarily hard and tough

and difficult to split. It is of great value as bridge supports, dock

gates, stern posts, engine supports, &c., and it is also extensively used

in the making of railway wagons and wheelwright's work generally.

Sandalwood, which is more of a bush than a tree, runs small as a rule. It

is fairly distributed over the Colony. Formerly there was a greater trade

in sandalwood than now; but the overstocked Chinese markets being sold

out, the West Australia trade is rapidly reviving.

Raspberry Jam is a handsomely shaped rounded acacia, and gets its name

from the scent of its wood, which is exactly that of the raspberry. An

oil is extracted from the wood, which is highly perfumed. The wood is

impervious to the attacks of the white ant.

In addition to these the Red Gum, the Wandoo, and York Gum are timber

trees of value.

The total output of the saw-mills for 1895 was 130,000 loads,

representing a gross value of 400,000 pounds.

It will thus be seen that the forests of the Colony form no

inconsiderable portion of its wealth, and afford employment to large

numbers of workers both in the forests themselves and in the saw-mills

and wharves.

The culture of the vine and various fruits is carried on in the

South-Western districts to a great extent--the soil, the climate, and the

elevation all tending to give the best results.

The chief fruits grown are apples, pears, peaches, nectarines, plums,

cherries, apricots, quinces, oranges, and lemons.

Viticulture forms a marked industry, though as yet largely undeveloped.

There are 1,450 acres under cultivation, and this area is rapidly

increasing. The slopes of the coastal ranges are admirably adapted for

the culture of the vine, and the chief varieties grown are those most

suitable for wine-making and for the table. Chasselas Doradillo, White

Rice, Black Alicante, and Muscat of Alexandria are largely cultivated.

There is, I conjecture, a good field open for the capitalist in the

direction of the wine manufacture.

Pastoral and agricultural pursuits are carried on with success in many

districts; agriculture is chiefly confined to the South-West corner of

the Colony. Cattle, sheep, and horses are raised all along the coast-line

from Albany to the De Grey, and in the far north, the Kimberley district.

The Nor'-West, however, labours under the disadvantage of drought on the

one hand and floods on the other. There are several regulations

governing land tenure, and when the emigrant has made a selection of the

land suitable for his purpose (and in this he should exercise great

care), he can get his land either as a free grant, or on lease, or by

conditional purchase. On these points emigrants will be fully informed at

the office of the Agent-General (Sir Malcolm Fraser, K.C.M.G.),

15 Victoria Street, Westminster, S.W.

There is no doubt that the soil of the S.W. district is fertile to a

degree, and capable of supporting a large pastoral and agricultural

population; and, as prices rule high, doubtless an emigrant suitable for

either pursuit would find good remuneration for his capital and labour.

In addition to the foregoing industries, there is another of almost equal

importance--that of the pearl and pearl-oyster fishery. Reports have been

issued by piscicultural experts, proving the suitability of the coasts

for the culture of the fish, and the matter has "come into official

consideration"; and it is to be hoped that Government will take steps to

foster this lucrative pursuit, the centres of which are at Shark's Bay,

about two hundred miles North of Geraldton, and at Broome, yet further

North. In 1896, twenty-one tons of mother-o'-pearl were exported at a net

profit of about 40 pounds per ton. However, there is every reason to

suppose that, properly and scientifically nurtured, pearl fishing should

prove well worthy of attention.

Though I have come to the conclusion that, unless Spinifex and Sand can

be conjured into valuable marketable products, the far interior of the

Colony is worthless for any purpose, yet I have also shown that beyond

the borders of the desert Nature smiles her brightest; and, given

population, West Australia may well vie in wealth and usefulness with any

of her sister colonies.