aken in the lips
and pulled down until the mouth can catch hold of some hanging twig--along
this it is worked, and so from twig to branch, a greater strain being
exerted as the branches increase in size, until finally the main limb of
the branch is seized, and bent and twisted until broken. Often they try
for one branch time after time, for having set their minds on a particular
morsel, nothing will satisfy them until they have it.

No such scene could be watched from our camp on the ridge. But still we
had something out of the common to look upon in the shape of hills ahead,
and my hopes were high that we should soon see the last of the desert.
Away to the North high points and bold headlands stood out black and clear
above the sea of sand, tablelands and square-edged hills with some high
peaks rising from them--the most imposing hills we had seen since passing
Mount Burgess, near Coolgardie. From this point little could be determined
as to their character even with glasses, for they were, as we afterwards
found, over thirty miles distant.

Between them and our camp numerous low detached, table-top hills and
conical mounds could be seen--none of any size, but remarkable in shape
and appearance. These I named the Forebank Hills, after a hill near
my home. These hills gave promise of better country, and, choosing a
prominent headland, I altered our course towards it the following
morning. We had not been travelling long before a smoke rose quite
close to us, and we had another opportunity of seeing native hunting
operations without being seen ourselves. A fine upstanding buck was
dodging about amongst the blazing spinifex and was too engrossed to
notice us; presently his occupation led him over the ridge and we saw him
no more. From the earliness of the hour--for the smokes as a rule do not
rise before 9 a.m.--it was clear that he could not have come far, so,
picking up his tracks, we followed them back to his camp. Though we were
not in great want of water, I considered it always advisable to let no
chance of getting some slip by, since one never can tell how long the
next may be in coming.

The tracks led us along the foot of one ridge; along the next, some
three hundred yards distant, the ladies of the tribe could be seen
marching along, laughing and chattering, and occasionally giving forth
the peculiar shrill yell which only the gins can produce. It is
impossible to describe a noise in writing, but the sound is no