Harm to ourselves and our camels as
care and caution could command. Our course was now North-East, as it was
necessary to make more easting to bring us near the longitude of Hall's
Creek. We continued for three days on this course, the ridges running due
East and West. The usual vegetation was to be seen, relieved by
occasional patches of a low, white plant having the scent of lavender.
This little plant grew chiefly on the southern slope of the ridges, and
was seen by us in no other locality. A specimen brought home by me was
identified at Kew Gardens as a new variety of Dicrastylis, and has been
named DICRASTYLIS CARNEGIEI.
Large tracts of burnt country had to be crossed from which clouds of dust
and ashes were continually rising, blown up by "Willy-Willies" (spiral
winds). These were most deceptive, it being very hard to distinguish
between them and hunting-smokes. After one or two disappointments we were
able to determine, from a distance, the nature of these clouds of black
dust. On the 22nd we turned due East towards some smokes and what
appeared to be a range of hills beyond them. The smokes, however, turned
out to be dust-storms, and the range to be immense sandhills. Here we saw
the first desert oak, standing solitary sentinel on the crest of a ridge.
Around the burnt ground several old tracks were visible, some of which we
followed, but with no better result than two dry rock-holes and a dry
native well one mile from them. Near the latter was an old native camp,
in which we found several small, pointed sticks, so planed as to leave a
bunch of shavings on the end. I have seen similar sticks stuck up on
native graves near Coolgardie, but have no idea of their proper
significance. Probably they are merely ornaments.
A line of cliffs next met our view, and to them we turned. These were
higher rocks or hills than we had seen for some time, and presented
rather a remarkable appearance. Formed of a conglomerate of sandstone and
round ironstone pebbles, they stood up like a wall on the top of a long
slope of easy grade, covered with gravel and loose pebbles. At the foot
lay boulders great and small, in detached heaps like so many pieces
broken from a giant plum-pudding. In the face of the cliffs were numerous
holes and caves, the floors of which gave ample evidence of the presence
of bats and wallabies. Of these latter we saw several, but could not get
a shot; careful exploration of these caves, on hands and knees, led to
the finding of a fair-sized rock-hole, unfortunately quite dry. I have no
doubt that these wallabies, like the spinifex rats, are so constituted
that water is not to them a necessity, and that the spinifex roots
afford sufficient moisture to keep them alive. We saw no traces of
spinifex rats at any of the wells we found, nor did we see any water
which they could reach or from which, having reached it, they could climb
up again to the surface. From the top of the cliffs an extensive view to
the South and North was obtained. But such a view! With powerful
field-glasses nothing could be seen but ridge succeeding ridge, as if the
whole country had been combed with a mammoth comb. From these points of
the compass the cliffs must be visible for a considerable distance. Their
rather remarkable appearance made me think them worth naming, so they
were christened "Wilson's Cliffs," after my old friend and partner.
The entry in my diary for the 25th would stand for many other days. It
runs: "Most wretched sand-ridge country, ridges East and West, and
timbered with very occasional stunted gums - extensive patches of bare,
burnt country with clouds of dust. Absolutely no feed for camels - or for
any other animal for that matter."
Such miserable country beggars description. Nothing is more heartrending
than to be forced to camp night after night with the knowledge that one's
poor animals are wandering vainly in search of feed. To tie them down
would have given them some rest, but at the same time it entailed their
certain starvation; whilst, wandering about, they stood some chance of
picking up a mouthful or two. How anxiously each ridge was scanned when
camping-time drew near - no feed - on again another ridge or two, no
feed - just one more ridge, and, alas! "no feed" is again the cry. So we
camped perforce without it, and often the famished camels would wander
two or three miles in the night in search of it, and this meant an extra
walk to recover them in the morning.
On the morning of the 27th Warri brought in all the camels but one, with
a message from Breaden that Misery was dying. Small wonder if all had
been in the same state, for we were now eight days from the last water,
and tough as camels are they cannot go waterless and foodless for very
many days in such trying country as this. Poor old Misery! This was sad
news indeed, but all that could be done to save him should be done.
This morning a smoke rose due West of us. We had seen so few signs of
natives lately that we could not afford to neglect this, even though it
was so far from our proper course.
By the time we had loaded the camels and distributed his load amongst the
rest, Breaden brought Misery into camp, and when we started, followed
with him behind us, coaxing him along as best he could. Eight miles
brought us into the region of the burning spinifex and fresh tracks;
despatching Charlie on Satan, and Godfrey and Warri on foot, to track up
and catch a native if possible, I unloaded the camels and awaited
Breaden's arrival.
