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.
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