The Next Day We Moved Camp To The Fresh-Water Reach, And Had Not Been
Travelling Long Before A Small
Tribe of blacks came round us, quickly
followed by our friends of the day before, and presently by more, until
We were marching along with a wild escort of nearly a hundred, mostly
men; they were fearfully excited, though quite friendly, and with yells
and shouts danced alongside, waving their spears and other weapons. I
never heard such a babel, or saw such frantic excitement about nothing,
or at least nothing that we could understand. Their wildness was tempered
with some fear of the camels, though with the horses they were quite
familiar, even going so far as to hit poor old Highlander, that I was
riding, on the rump with their spears, a proceeding that he did not
approve of. "Womany," "Womany," "White-fella," "Womany," "White-fella,"
they kept on shouting; if they meant to call our attention to the
beauties of their gins they might well have spared themselves the
trouble, for a more hideous lot of females I never set eyes on. Presently
another wild yell heralded the approach of a large band of "womany" who
waded breast deep across the creek, followed by their dogs swimming
behind. These were no improvement on the first lot; all the old and ugly
ladies of the neighbouring tribes must have been gathered together. Their
dogs however, were worthy of notice, for they were Manx-dogs, if such a
word may be coined!
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