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.
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