Chapter VII: Part II: Under the Southern Cross (3)

The hundreds of others who had pegged out beyond us were not so quickly convinced, and they announced their intention of sinking to bedrock if they "busted" in the attempt. About an hour after our arrival at the Sacred Nugget Patch, Phil and I started back for the Five-Mile Flat, satisfied to have taken part in so strange a rush, yet quite certain that the Sacred Nugget had been unearthed in some other district, or that the entire concern had been a stupendous hoax. Tom Doyle decided to camp on the so-called "Patch" all night, without any special reason for doing so beyond holding the ground in case some fool might want to buy it for flotation purposes, as had been done often before with useless properties.

When we reached home that evening we were tired indeed, and in spite of ourselves we felt rather disappointed at the unsuccessful issue of the much-advertised stampede.

"Ye've had a gran' time," said Mac regretfully, when Phil told of how he and "Satan" came in first after a most desperate race.

"I'm glad I didn't go with you," said Bill. "I hope I can resist temptation in the way o' rushes until I is ready to sail back homeward."

"It would certainly be better," I allowed, "than to give up a proved property for a miserable sham."

As it happened, the famous rush had indeed proved but a worthless demonstration. Not a grain of gold was discovered near the Sacred Patch; and after much labour had been expended there, the disgusted miners abandoned their shafts in a body.

The mystery connected with the alleged nugget was never explained. Every bank in the Colony denied having seen it, and its supposed finders did not again appear on the fields. Father Long must have been cruelly victimised, of that there was no doubt, for no one could for a moment believe that he had perjured himself. He was justly known as a thoroughly honourable man and a conscientious teacher. Even the most suspicious mind could not accuse him in any way. And he, the unfortunate dupe of a pair of unscrupulous rogues, did not long survive the severe shock given to an already feeble system. He died some months later, and with him went the secret, if any, of the Great Sacred Nugget.

INTO THE "NEVER NEVER" LAND

A few weeks after the Sacred Nugget rush had taken place we lowered our flag at the Five-Mile Flat, having come to an end of the auriferous workings within our boundaries. I had meanwhile succeeded in purchasing from an Afghan trader two powerful camels and five horses, with the intention of using them on our projected inland expedition. The horses, I feared, would prove of little service, but for the early part of the journey they might relieve the camels somewhat by carrying the various tinned foodstuffs necessary for a long sojourn in the desert. These "various" stores vary but little notwithstanding their distinguishing labels, and the bushman's vocabulary, always expressive, contains for them a general title, namely, "tinned dog."

Tinned dog and flour are, indeed, the sum total of the Australian explorer's needs. The traveller in the great "Never Never" land is not an epicure by any means, and should he be burdened by over-æsthetic tastes they quickly vanish when "snake sausage" or "bardie pie" has appeared on his _menu_ for some days!

Phil had decided to accompany us, and as he had shared our fortunes since our entry into the country, I was by no means loath to accept of his services, knowing him to be a highly trustworthy comrade, and an invaluable addition to our little party he proved.

It was hard to say goodbye to our old associates of the camp fire; I knew they would not remain much longer at the same diggings, which were showing signs of playing out in almost every claim, and it was not likely we should ever meet again.

Old Tom was much affected; he had been our near neighbour so long, and under the happiest circumstances of his wandering life, so he said, and now we were going back into the "Never Never" country, and would never see him more. I was not quite certain whether Old Tom meant that we should most probably leave our bones in the central deserts, or whether his words were due to an extreme sentimentalism on his part, but I preferred to believe the latter.

"We'll call and see you at Adelaide some of these times, Tom," I said, while Stewart and Mac were bidding him an affectionate farewell, but he only shook his head mournfully, and would not be comforted.

As for Emu Bill, he had considerable faith in our enterprise, and would, I believe, have come with us had I said the word. He was, however, a true specimen of the independent bushman, and unwilling to demonstrate his wishes.

"Durn it all, boys," said he with vigour, "I is not an old man yet, an' tho' I knows you aire a big enuff party without me to get through the mallee country, I guess I'll coast it round to Derby in time to jine you in a Leopolds trip."

"I thought you were going home after this rise, Bill," I said quizzically, not surprised to find his early resolutions wavering.

"I'll mebbe see you 'cross the Leopolds first," he replied gravely. "I calc'late I knows that bit o' kintry better'n any white man."

"Goodbye, boys," roared Nuggety Dick and his satellites, waving their shovels from their distant claims, and the echoes were taken up from end to end of the lead, for where I was wholly unknown Mac and Stewart had endeared themselves by devices peculiar to that crafty pair. It was pleasant to receive such a genial send-off, and though I am not as a rule affected by farewell greetings, yet on this occasion I felt strangely moved. The camels and horses stood ready, laden with the great water-bags and unwieldy mining machinery, and Phil was stroking the mane of one of the horses in listless fashion.

"It's a fairly long trip for you to start on, Phil," I said, noting the far-away expression on his usually bright face.

"I was thinking of _other_ things," he answered quietly.

"Gee up, Misery!" cried Mac, cracking his long whip.

"Gee up, Slavery!" echoed Stewart. And we started out, heading N.N.E., bound for the land where the pelican builds its nest.

For the first few miles we crossed the gridiron-like tracks connecting the numerous camps and settlements lying out from the main township of Kalgoorlie; but soon these signs of civilisation vanished, and in the early afternoon our course lay over a wildering scrubland, with iron-shot sand-patches here and there among the stunted shrubs. The camels, which we had named "Slavery" and "Misery," led the trail. They were, indeed, wiry animals, and as I paced beside them, noting their almost ludicrously leisurely tread, I could not help remarking on the vast amount of latent power indicated in every movement of their rubber-like bodies. "Slavery" was a patient and gentle animal, and marched along meekly under his load of full seven hundred pounds, but "Misery" soon displayed a somewhat fiery temper, and before our first day's journey was completed we were compelled to adopt stern measures with the recalcitrant brute.

The horses formed a sad-looking line behind the sturdier beasts of burden, and they would cheerfully have forced along at a speedier rate than the progress of the camels allowed. Among them were two high-spirited animals, which we named "Sir John" and "Reprieve," while the three others we dubbed simply "Sin," "Sand," and "Sorrow."

We camped that evening just twelve miles from our starting-point, and yet it seemed as if we were already beyond the reach of civilisation. Not a trace of a white man's presence was visible anywhere, and for the first night we missed the crashing rattle of the ever-working batteries. A deathlike stillness filled the air, broken only by the startled scream of the carrion crow or the weird double note of the mopoke.

"There's any amount of room for prospecting here," hazarded Phil, gazing around, after the horses and camels had been safely picketed. Which was true; yet who could have the heart to sink a proving shaft amid such inhospitable surroundings?

"If we locate an outcrop, boys," I said, "we may trace it up, but otherwise we can only test the surface sands with the dryblower."

It was but vaguely known what kind of country lay far to eastward of us. Many thousands of square miles had never been crossed by any traveller, and strange rumours were often circulated among the miners of the various outposts regarding the extraordinary riches of the vast "Never Never" land. It was even predicted that a great inland river flowed northwards towards the Gulf of Carpentaria; how far it flowed before sinking in the arid sands was a matter for conjecture, but it was confidently supposed to drain fertile valleys, and to be flanked by noble mountain ranges rich in gold and precious gems. It was a rosy enough picture, surely, but one which, unfortunately, no explorer had yet succeeded in bearing out.

"It's a gran' thing," said Mac thoughtfully, when supper was over, and we were reclining on our blankets gazing at the stars, and listening to the tinkling of the camel bells. "It's a vera gran' thing," he repeated, "tae be alane aince mair, an' wi' the bonnie stars shinin' brichtly abune----"

"Here's a centipede!" roared Stewart, interrupting his comrade's moralising.

"Then pit it in yer pocket, ma man," was the calm reply; and he resumed where he had left off: "Ay, it's a gran' thing, Phil, tae ken that ye're traivellin' in new country, breathin' the bonnie pure air. Noo if ye had been wi' me an' Stewart oot in Alaskie----"

"Spin me a yarn, Mac," said Phil, drawing his blanket closer, while Stewart started up in sheer amazement.

Mac was visibly affected; he took his pipe from his mouth and gazed at the camp fire blankly for some time without speaking. "Ye're a guid an' thochtfu' man, Phil," he said at length with great earnestness, "an' A'll gie ye a rale bonnie story...."

I will pass but briefly over the early days of our march. Our track at first led through the Murchison district, for I wished to make a mid-northerly latitude before steering east; but after leaving the Gascoyne Channel the country traversed was of the most dreary nature, and similar to that around the more desolate southern gold camps. Several soaks were found opportunely when the water-bags were becoming dangerously flat, and our progress continued uneventfully for over a week, but then the formation of the land-surface began to change rapidly for the worse. The dwarfed eucalypti became sparser and sparser, and in their room appeared bushy clumps of saltbush and tufts of spiky spinifex grass. The hard ironsand soil, too, gave place to a white yielding gravel which hindered our advance greatly. The camels, certainly, were not seriously inconvenienced, but the staggering horses sank over the fetlocks at each step, and stumbled forward painfully, while we floundered alongside, almost blinded by the rising iron dust which filled our ears and nostrils.

For two days we crossed this disheartening waste, fearing greatly for the safety of the horses, which showed signs of collapse. No water had been located for three days before entering upon this miserable tract, and assuredly none promised on its parched expanse. The horses--poor animals!--fared rather ill in consequence, for we dared not give them much of our rapidly-diminishing fluid supply. On the morning of the third day, however, our course led across slightly-improved country, so that better progress was made, and our chances of finding water were decidedly more encouraging.

At noon we entered a belt of scrub, and soon were crashing through a miniature forest of stunted mallee; but this state of affairs was not destined to last, for we could see in the distance, at a slightly higher altitude, the open plain extending back into the horizon. At this point Phil considered the indications very favourable for water, and we decided to make a temporary camp, and search the district thoroughly before proceeding. We were preparing to unload the camels, when Stewart, who had gone a little way ahead, came rushing back in great excitement. "Niggers!" he hoarsely whispered. Looking up I saw quite an assembly of stalwart bucks directly in our course, and scarcely two hundred yards in front. Some bushes partially hid them from our view, and they had evidently not yet observed us. They were well equipped with spears and waddies; probably they were out on a hunting expedition, and, if so, it boded well for the resources of the district.

While we hesitated, debating on our best plan of action, they saw us, and gave vent to a series of shrill yells, yet were apparently undecided whether to resent our presence or escape while they might. Then a shower of spears whizzed through the air, but fell short, and buried their heads in the sand at our feet. We were just out of range of these missiles, luckily enough. My companions were not disposed to tolerate such tactics, and Mac discharged his gun, loaded with small shot, at the hostile band. They waited no longer, but made a wild rush into the densest part of the scrub, and were quickly lost to sight. Then we proceeded onwards warily, whilst far in the distance the branches crackled and broke before the fleeing horde. The scene of their stand was littered with fragments of brushwood, and the dying embers of a fire smouldered in the centre of a small clearing close by. All around, shields, spears, and boomerangs lay scattered as they had been thrown when their owners took to flight. The sight was curiously strange and impressive.

My usually loquacious companions had been wonderfully silent during the last day or so, owing, perhaps, to the uninspiring nature of our environment, but now Mac succeeded in launching into a lengthy diatribe, in which he consigned the blacks generally to a very warm climate indeed.

"At the same time," said he, "we shidna forget that such inceedents serve a vera usefu' purpose."

"They seemed rale dacent black buddies," reflectively murmured Stewart.

"And they entertained the laudable desire of puncturing us with 'rale dacent' spears," Phil added shortly.

The camels stood patiently within the clearing, with their long necks outstretched, and their heads moving up and down with the regularity of automatons; the horses straggled behind, gasping feebly.

"We'd better make a halt right here, boys," I said; "the horses seem played out completely." So while Mac and Stewart were engaged in the work of unloading them, Phil and I made a minute survey of our surroundings. A huge breakwind guarded the circular space, and behind it a well-padded track led backwards into a richly-foliaged dell. Creeping plants and luxurious ferns grew in profession around the base of a single lime-tree which found root in the hollow, and a long wiry kind of grass flourished abundantly under its genial shade.

"I'll investigate the cause of such unusual vegetation," Phil said, stepping forward.

"Look out for snakes," I warned; then turned to assist Mac in raising poor "Sorrow," who had rolled over on the ground, pack-saddle and all.

"The puir beastie's feenished," Mac said sorrowfully, "an' nae wunner."

"Here's anither ane," wailed Stewart, and I looked up to see him wildly endeavouring to keep "Sin" from falling on the top of sundry cooking utensils. It was plain that two at least of the horses could go no further if fortune did not speedily favour us.

"This is the deevil's ain countrie," groaned Mac helplessly, and for the moment I felt utterly disheartened as I watched the poor animals convulsively gasping on the sand.

A shout from Phil drew my attention. "There's a spring here, boys," he cried gleefully from the lime-tree hollow.

It was a welcome discovery; I had almost despaired of finding water in the vicinity. "We'll camp for the day," I said, "and give our pack train a much-needed rest."

The spring was a small one and beautifully clear; its waters gurgled gently through a fissure in a white kaolin formation, and the surplus flow was absorbed by the spreading roots of the climbing growths mentioned. It was half hidden by an outjutting boulder, and further cunningly screened from view by a heavy clump of overhanging grass. Evidently the blacks were in the habit of camping here frequently; the breakwind might have been erected for one night's shelter, but the track towards the well had been long in use.

"I hope our landlords do not visit us to-night," Phil remarked, as we gazed at each other through the smoke of our camp fire some little time later.

"It wud be a vera onfort'nate happenin'," Mac grunted placidly, drawing his gun closer.

"They're mebbe cannibals," suggested Stewart uneasily.

"We'll keep a watch in case of accident," I said; "but I don't expect they'll give us any trouble."

But Stewart was still uneasy. "Their spears ha' an ex-tra-or'-nar' bluid-thirsty look," he grumbled again, examining the double-barbed weapons he had collected, "an' I hae nae faith whitever in they black-skinned heathen."

However, the night passed without alarm, though we kept a careful watch and were ready for an attack should any have been attempted.

We continued our march next morning, and in less than half an hour had emerged into open country, but now the surface soil was of a hard, gravelly nature, liberally strewn with the iron pebbles so abundant in more southerly latitudes. Straggling growths of mallee and mulga spread everywhere, and at their roots reptiles and numberless nameless pests seemed to abide. Black snakes writhed across our path, centipedes squirmed over our boots, iguanas in myriads started before our approach, and flying creatures with hard, scaly wings rose from the shadeless branches and dashed into our faces. Flies in dense clouds assailed us, causing indescribable torture, and the diminutive sand insect was also extremely active, seeking into our socks and ragged clothing despite our most stringent precautions.

For over a week we journeyed across this dreary wilderness, nor did we once observe a break in the horizon's even curve; the weather, meanwhile, being of sweltering description. Then a dim haze towards the north-east gradually outlined into a well-defined mountain range as we advanced, and the country in general took on a more irregular appearance. We were now nearing the line of the explorer Wells's northward march, and I altered our course slightly in order to intersect it at a point where a good water supply was charted, for four days had elapsed since we had last discovered any trace of moisture.

All that day we forced onwards wearily, the sun beating down upon us mercilessly the while. No more desolate tract could be imagined than that which lies in these latitudes: the motionless mallee and mulga shrubs, the glistening beady surface over which we dragged our feet, the quivering heat haze that so distorted our vision, and the solemn stillness--the awful stillness of a tomb--all tended to overwhelm the mind. A broken range of sandstone hills loomed clearly out of the haze early in the afternoon, directly in our track, and I again shifted the course so as to round their southern extremity. Towards the south the sand wastes extended far as the eye could reach, but east and north many mouldering peaks now interrupted our view.

We found the spring without difficulty; it contained about forty gallons of muddy water, over which a thick green scum had gathered, and it was simply moving with animal life. Many bones of doubtful origin lay heaped near to it; some were probably the remains of kangaroos killed by the natives, of whom there were numerous signs in the neighbourhood, but Phil insisted that not a few human bones were among the bleaching mass. At the bottom of the spring the complete vertebræ of several snakes and similar reptiles almost wholly covered the chalky, impervious base, but how these came to be there was a matter beyond my comprehension.

"Most probably," said Phil, "the natives like a snaky flavour in the water."

"It mak's it extra paleetable tae them, nae doot," groaned Mac with a shudder, "but I hae nae parshiality fur crawly bastes, even when they're deid."

Stewart had by this time acquired a philosophical turn of mind. "What's the guid o' growlin', Mac?" he snorted. "There's mebbe waur than that tae come yet."

That we were in a district favoured by the blacks was very certain, although we had not yet observed any of the dusky savages; three or four breakwinds sheltered a space close to the spring, and the ground was black with burnt-out smokes and charred logs. The water, notwithstanding its pronounced medicinal flavour, was a great improvement on the fetid solutions of the various soaks we had encountered, and we decided to camp by it for several days, so as to test the auriferous resources of the surface sands, which looked rather promising, and also to give us time to make some much-needed repairs in our tattered wardrobe.

The results of our experiments with the supposed auriferous country proved too insignificant for more than a passing mention here. A few colours were obtained, but nothing to give confidence to even the most unambitious goldseeker. Rather disconsolately we prepared to resume our march in a more N.E. direction, and three days later we started on our altered course. The eternal sameness of things in the Australian interior makes daily records of progress unentertaining reading, and though each day's travel comes back to my mind now as I write with painful vividness, yet it but cries out in the same strain as its predecessor and follower, "Sand, sand, everlasting sand."

For many miserable days and weeks we struggled eastward, sometimes deviating to the north or south in vain endeavour to escape unusually deterrent belts of the frightful wastes now so familiar to us all.

Sometimes we would locate a soak or claypan when least expecting such a find, and again, we might be reduced to almost certain disaster before the water-bags were replenished at some providential mudhole in our course. I do not wish to enlarge upon the miseries of our journeyings; we took these willingly on ourselves at the start, hoping for a compensating reward in the shape of valuable knowledge; and is not experience always priceless? Knowledge we did gain, it is true, but not of the kind we had over-fondly anticipated; still, we had not yet reached the planned limit of our expedition, and who knew what might await us in the dim, shadowy mountain that stretched its cumbering height far on the eastern horizon?

We had sighted this landmark nearly a week before, but having been more than usually zealous in our search for the precious metal among the outcropping iron formations now frequently encountered, our rate of travel had been reduced to a few miles each day. Two of the horses were still left us; the last of the ill-fated three had succumbed from sheer exhaustion nearly fifty miles back, but "Sir John" and "Reprieve," though no longer the high-spirited animals they once were, still carried their jolting burdens of tinned meats, flour, and extracts, though their steps were daily becoming weaker, and their bright eyes clouding in a manner that foretold the worst. The camels stubbornly paced ahead, with the great water-bags tantalisingly lapping their tough hides, and the miscellaneous mining implements perched on their hollow backs; they had already served us well and nobly, and I devoutly hoped their vast energies would bear them over the worst that lay before us.

EL DORADO!

We were now close on the 125th degree of longitude, which I had marked as the limit of our eastward course, and my faith in more northerly latitudes was so little, indeed, that I dreaded making any change in our direction of travel.

"If we don't strike gold within the next couple of days," said Phil, "there isn't much likelihood of our being overburdened with wealth at the end of the trip."

Mac, who was pulling the nose rope of the leading camel, at once lifted up his voice in protest.

"For Heaven's sake be mair pleasant wi' yer remarks, Phil," he cried. "I was calculatin' on goin' home like a young millionaire----"

"You'll need to calculate again, then, Mac," interrupted Phil, "for I don't think we'll get a red cent out of the ground on this journey."

But the complainer was not yet satisfied.

"What's the guid o' bein' a golologist?" he demanded wrathfully. "I thocht----"

What he thought remained unspoken, for at that moment we heard a scramble behind, and looking round we saw the doughty Mac and his compatriot Stewart engaged in fierce conflict.

"I saw it first, ye red-heided baboon," roared the former, with remarkable fluency of expression.

"The fact o' seeing it is naething--naething at a'," returned the other with great complacency, "It's sufficient to say that I hae got it."

The camels, feeling the strain of guidance relaxed, had come to a halt, and were now seemingly taking an interest in the squabble. It was a rare thing for them to be left to their own devices, even for a moment. Time is precious when crossing these vast salt tracts, and midday stoppages in the blazing sun are dangerous.

"What are you two quarrelling about now?" I asked sternly, feeling in no gentle mood with the hinderers. Mac's face assumed an intensely aggrieved expression, but he held his peace, and Stewart calmly displayed a small rounded pebble between his finger and thumb, announcing blandly that it alone was the cause of the disturbance.

"It's a bonnie stane," said he, gazing at his treasure admiringly.

"An' it's mine by richt," howled Mac.

I was about to lecture the pair strongly on their foolish behaviour over what I supposed to be an ordinary fragment of white quartz, when Phil uttered an exclamation, and, rushing back, snatched the pebble from Stewart's hand and proceeded to examine it closely. So eager was his scrutiny that in a moment we were clustered round him, awaiting his verdict with extreme interest.

"What do you make of it?" said he at length, handing the stone to me.

"Weather-worn quartz," I replied promptly. He shook his head.

"We'll work it out in specific gravity later," he said, with the air of one who was sure of his ground; "but I will bet you this half of a shirt I am wearing that it's a genuine ruby, and there must be more of them in the vicinity."

"Hurroo!" yelled Mac and Stewart in unison, prancing around delightedly, and for the moment Phil's delinquencies were forgotten in the tribute of praise that my worthy henchmen generously accorded the "golologist." They ended by making him a present of the fateful gem, though Mac somewhat spoilt the effect of the gift by soliloquising rather loudly--

"It'll be well to propeetiate the golologist, Stewart, my man, for he's nae sae stupid as he looks, efter a'."

Soon after we renewed our march, much uplifted at the thought of acquiring treasure even more valuable than gold; but though we kept a sharp look-out on the ground surface, the early afternoon passed without any further coloured pebbles being discovered, whereat Mac again commenced to revile the country with his customary eloquence.

"That ruby wis a delooshun," he asserted stoutly. "Some o' the El Dorado fairies must ha'e put it there on purpose to deceive us, an' noo they'll be having grand fun at oor expense."

"Hustle along old Misery, and don't moralise," I interjected hastily.

"Moralise?" he echoed. "Me moralise? No vera likely. I never dae such a thing. Gee up, Meesery, an' stop winkin' at me this meenit."

But the mention of El Dorado had aroused in Stewart a strain of recollection, and as he paced beside his cumbrous charge he made several ineffectual attempts to recite some ancient verses as learned in the days of his youth.

"I canna mind the poetry o' it," he broke out at last, "but the story was real bonnie; it telt hoo a warrior went out to seek for El Dorado, and--and----" Then his memory came back to him, and he chanted out dismally--

"And as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow.
'Shadow,' said he,
'Where can it be,
This land of El Dorado?'

'Over the mountains
Of the moon,
Down the valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,'
The Shade replied,
'If you seek for El Dorado.'"

"Which is," grunted Mac, "which is, metaphorically speaking, preceesely what we are doing. Gee up, Meesery, and dinna look sae weary-like."

"Our specimen must have been shed from that mountain," I repeated, when we lay down in our blankets at night.

The morning dawned clear and beautifully calm. The sky was cloudless, save where in the east a billowy sea of gold marked where the sun had risen. The leafless branches of the mulga shrubs growing near quivered in the rising rays, and the long sand-track ahead sparkled as the waters of a gilded ocean. But now, through the dispelling haze the firm outline of a precipitous mountain became clearly visible only a few miles ahead. In our eager search on the preceding afternoon we had not observed the nearness of the welcome sentinel, or probably it was that the darkening sky in the early evening had shut it from our view. There was certainly no doubt about its presence now, and we hailed it right gladly as we watched it loom out of the dissolving mists.

"It's mebbe a mirage," suggested Stewart apprehensively.

"Nary miradge," retorted Mac; "it's El Dorado, that's what it is. Just what we were looking for."

Five minutes later I was ogling the sun with my sextant, while Phil stood by with the trusty chronometer in his hand to note the time of my observations.

"125 degrees 17 minutes east longitude," he announced, after a rough calculation, "which makes the mountain about ten miles off."

"'Shadow,' said he,
'Whaur can it be,
This land o' El Dorado?'"

Stewart trolled out lustily as he set about the preparation of the morning meal. About eight o'clock we were ready to start, which showed unusual alacrity in our movements. The camels, too, seemed imbued with fresh life, and allowed themselves to be loaded without their customary protests.

"I've never seen Meesery sae tractable," Mac said in amazement, patting the trembling nostrils of the leading camel. "I wonder what's gaun to happen?"

"We're all ready," sung out Phil blithely, and I gave the usual signal for the advance.

"Gee up, Meesery," grunted Mac.

"Aince mair, Slavery," implored Stewart, and we set out for the mountain at an unusually lively pace. The forenoon passed without event, and so speedy had been our progress that our midday halt was made amongst the straggling timber belt which feathered the base of the mountain. We lost no time in making ready for the ascent, and within an hour after our arrival we had hobbled the camels and were starting out on our journey of discovery.

For the first half-hour we made fairly good headway through the straggling belt of eucalypti covering the lower slopes, then we emerged on a treeless, boulder-strewn expanse, on which the sun scintillated with burning intensity. Over this scorched area we clambered as best we could. The sharp rubble cut through our boots, and the glistening rocks, hot as a fiery furnace, burnt our clutching hands. Our mountain exploration was surely becoming less of a picnic than we had anticipated. Directly above, a solid mass of basalt reared its head, gaunt and bare, but when we came to the edge of the glass-like cap, we hesitated--we might as well have attempted to cross a field of molten metal. From this point various dry channels tore down the face of the hill, radiating outwards into the plain. They were so silted up with rock fragments and ironsand as to be scarcely perceptible, but Phil's trained eye at once noted their significance.

"Ages ago," said he, "those gullies were filled with rushing torrents, which goes to prove that a crater lake existed on the top of the mountain."

He walked over to one of the ancient beds and scraped among the drift of black sand conglomeration. At once several water-worn specimens of quartzite were uncovered, and of these over fifty per cent bore the characteristic markings of the ruby.

"Fill your pockets with these, Mac," he said quietly. "They should be worth considerably more than their weight in gold."

Prolonged travelling in Western Australia does not tend to develop enthusiasm, and the extraordinary find so unexpectedly made was greeted by no extravagant manifestations of delight. Relief rather than joy was ours at that moment, for in one important sense at least our quest seemed surely ended.

"If we can find water in the vicinity we'll camp at the foot of the hill for a few days, boys," I announced with much satisfaction. "Meanwhile we had better explore a little further, and see what the country looks like from the summit."

But Mac and Stewart were already busily engaged collecting specimens, which they stowed in every nook and corner of their ragged garments.

"Come along, you gloating misers!" cried Phil, as he and I started to negotiate the last stiff climb.

"There's nae time like the present," growled Mac oracularly, pursuing his congenial task with supreme content.

"I'm o' the same opeenion," spluttered Stewart, who had turned his mouth into a receptacle for the finest gems in his collection. So we crawled over the smooth climaxing dome alone. Our surprise was great when on reaching the top we found ourselves on the edge of a small circular area that depressed ever so slightly towards the centre, providing a space which looked remarkably like an ordinary circus ring. This impression was much heightened by the fact that a well-marked path seemed to have been worn around the periphery; but through what agency this had been done I could not well imagine. We stood surveying the odd arena, filled with wonder.

"It is one of Nature's strange tricks," I said, after a considerable silence.

Phil looked doubtful, but he did not speak. Then we made a further discovery. The saucer-shaped hollow was graven out of a solid lava formation, but exactly over the point of its deepest dip several crumbling branches lay strewn. Of a certainty they had not come there of their own accord, and at once we were overwhelmed with dire misgivings.

"It means that there are some native tribes in the neighbourhood," said Phil, watching me kick aside the branches with much interest. What we saw then did not add to our bewilderment, for we had already partly guessed the significance of the peculiar arrangement. Under the layer of brush, a narrow, funnel-like shaft had been hid, which apparently descended into the heart of the mouldering desert sentinel, but why this hole had been covered was more than we could understand. While we stood in silent contemplation of the remarkable state of affairs disclosed, our energetic companions, having marvelled at our long absence, swarmed up beside us, breathing heavily.

"Nebuchadnezzar's furnace wouldna be in the same street wi' that biler," began Mac, patting his scantily-covered knees with tender solicitude.

"I smell nigger," howled Stewart, taking in the scene at a glance.

"That's aye what happens when A come oot withoot my gun," sorrowfully muttered the first arrival, moving over to the narrow crater mouth and peering into the darkness with studied nonchalance.

It so happened, however, that the loose pockets of his flimsy upper garment were filled to overflowing with cherished specimens, and the half-kneeling attitude which he assumed allowed them to escape in a copious stream, so that they fell down into the depths. With a bellow of rage he drew back, but not before the bulk of his treasure had disappeared; then the air was filled with the fulness of his wrath, and sulphurous expressions loud and deep were hurled into the Stygian gloom.

"Calm yersel', Mac--calm yersel'," adjured Stewart soothingly.

"Calm be d----d!" roared the afflicted one. "Hoo am I goin' to get back my rubies?"

This was a point which seemed unanswerable.

"You'll get more to-morrow, Mac," I said, "but we'll have to return to the camels now, in case the natives get a hold of them before we have time to take precautions."

He remained unappeased, however.

"We'll mebbe hae to flee for oor lives afore morning," he protested gloomily. "It's no the first time we've had to strike camp in a hurry."

As he spoke he unwound from his waist a long coil of rope which he usually carried in case of emergency, and, with dogged determination, proceeded to sound the depths of the well.

"You'd better let me gang," advised Stewart, guessing his companion's intentions before they had been uttered; "I'm no sae bulky as you, an'----"

He got no further.

"Mak' nae mair allooshuns," came the answer, with a chilling dignity. "I'll engineer this funeral mysel'."

Hastily fastening a fragment of rock to the end of the rope, he dropped it into the narrow orifice and carefully noted the length of line run out. All this time Phil and I had made little comment, never expecting that any satisfactory bottom would be found; but great was our surprise to see the rope become stationary when little over twenty feet had been paid out.

"I'm really anxious to know what is at the bottom of that hole, Mac," said Phil; "but I hope you don't find a nice fat, healthy crocodile awaiting you----"

"Haud the end o' the rope, Phil, an' dinna speechify," broke out the harassed Mac impatiently; and he wriggled his somewhat substantial form into the vertical channel until his arms alone saved him from falling down altogether.

"It's a--a tight fit," he grumbled, with diminishing enthusiasm. "Noo haud on tight, ye deevils; haud on--haud on!"

His voice rumbled up dolorously to our ears as we lowered him gently into the mysterious pit, until, when the lower depths were reached, the rocky vault seemed to tremble with vague echoes. Suddenly the strain on the rope was relaxed, and we waited expectantly for tidings from the adventurer.

"It's vera dark doon here," came the ghost-like voice from the underground. "I think--I think I'll come up----"

"What sort of bottom have you got, Mac?" I shouted. "Try and fetch up a specimen."

A few more inconsequent remarks issued from the pit mouth, then we could see the dull glimmer of a match far below. Almost immediately after a jubilant yell of triumph swelled up to the surface.

"I've got them! I've got them!" he cried. "An' there's gold quartz here, foreby." Then came a crash, a rumble, and a dull, heavy splash, and we on the surface gazed on each other in dismay.

"Let me doon! Let me doon!" wailed Stewart. "Something serious has happened to Mac. Haud on to the rope." He let himself into the narrow aperture with unwonted agility, and, with an unspeakable fear in our hearts, Phil and I commenced to pay out the rope.

"Wha the--who the----Wha's blockin' the licht?" bellowed a well-known voice from the bowels of the earth, which had the effect of ejecting Stewart into the outer air with a celerity astonishing to behold. Then we breathed again.

Apparently some ledge had first intercepted our sounding-line, and also provided a precarious foothold for our valiant associate; but that the true bottom had now been reached there was little room for doubt.

"I might have guessed before," said Phil, "that the crater would have an impervious base, and so retain any rain that might be collected."

Judging by the snorts and puffs emitted by the individual who was in a position to know, the shaft must have held a fair amount of liquid contents.

"Haul on the rope, for heaven's sake!" spluttered he. "This water would pushion a nigger. Haul me up quick! There's snakes an' wee crocodiles tickling me!"

In haste we endeavoured to obey his beseeching call, but the sodden cord was not equal to the strain, and twice the strands snapped before our comrade's bulk was raised from the water.

"We'd better double the line, boys," I said. "Mac must have increased in weight during his sojourn below."

The unfortunate victim of his own prowess groaned lugubriously from his dank and dark prison, but found time between his grumbling to curse right heartily the various denizens of his watery environment.

"Be patient, Mac, be patient," counselled Stewart, rearranging the haulage system. "Scientific exploration is not without its drawbacks, as you should well ken by this time." He continued addressing choice words of wisdom to his helpless compatriot while he deftly spliced the rope. During this lull in operations I chanced to look abroad over the sweltering plain, and at once my eyes detected the curling "smokes" of a native camp. We had been too busily engrossed with other matters since our arrival on the hill-top to observe the landscape on the east, and now the nearness of a possible hostile band appalled me. Our rifles had been left in camp, and I only carried a revolver.

"By Jove!" said Phil, "we are going to be in a fix." Then a shout of alarm broke from him: "There's about a dozen of the ugliest bucks I ever saw coming right up the hill," he said feebly. I followed his gaze, and, sure enough, I could see a number of hideously-scarred and feather-bedecked warriors making their way through the scraggy brushwood, scarcely a hundred yards from where we stood. With frantic haste, we again endeavoured to rescue our companion from his awkward predicament, but fate was surely against us. We had with our combined efforts raised him only a few feet when the rope came in contact with the broken ledge, and the strands parted like so many straws, so that Mac was once more precipitated back into the slimy waters. Our plans had now to be made quickly.

"Go down to the camp, Stewart," I said, "and fetch a camel pack-rope and my rifle. Phil and I will make the best of things till you come back." Forgetful alike of the burning rock and the sharp-edged rubble, he slid down the smooth declivity, and made a wild burst for the foot of the hill. Almost immediately the many-barbed spears of the aborigines bore into view from the opposite side of the dome, and we laid ourselves flat on the curving wall and breathlessly waited events. Slowly a weird procession filed on to the elevated platform, and continued a solemn march around the well-trod channel which had first claimed our attention. Round and round they circled, clashing their spears and shields, and swaying their lithe black bodies drunken-like. Then suddenly they broke out into a dismal chant, and quickened their step into a half-run, ludicrous to behold. It was soon evident to us that the warrior band had not come to level their spears against us; they never once glanced in our direction. Their gaze was apparently fixed on the ancient crater in which Mac lay entombed. They had come to worship the great spirit Wangul, the dreaded "Dweller in the Waters."

The _dénoûement_ of this interesting ceremonial was rapid and unexpected. Just when the reeling warriors had ceased their vocal exercise from sheer want of breath, when the ensuing silence was broken only by the pattering of many feet on the sun-baked lava, a hoarse voice thundered up from subterranean caverns, and at the sound the poor nomads halted in their mad career, and gazed at each other terror-stricken.

"Babba, Wangul, Moori!" they cried shrilly, "Babba, Wangul, Moori!" ("The Water God speaks"). Again a sonorous echo reverberated up from the heart of the mountain, completing their demoralisation. A moment they hesitated, then, dashing their warlike arms to the ground, and tearing the feathers from their hair, they fled madly back whence they had come. Phil gave a gasp of relief, and I felt thankful beyond expression. Then we quickly made our way through the litter of discarded weapons towards the Wangul's home. The words that floated to our ears when we gazed into the depths were sulphurous in the extreme. Poor Mac could not understand why he had been so ruthlessly neglected, and his complaints were deep and eloquent.

"Stewart, ye red-heided deevil, are ye goin' to pu' me oot, or are ye no?" he howled in righteous indignation, and I was glad that the individual named, who just then came swarming over the rocks, puffing tempestuously, had not heard the fervent malediction bestowed upon his faithful person. He approached laden with the whole armoury of the expedition, the perspiration streaming from his face, and his gaunt frame trembling visibly.

"I thought ye had been all slauchtered," he muttered, subsiding behind his equipment, "an' I wis goin' to hae revenge."

With the aid of the stout camel-ropes we soon raised our dripping comrade to the surface. As he approached the light of day I noticed that his rugged old face bore a distinctly grim expression, as if he was of the opinion that we had been having a huge joke at his expense; but when he heard of what had occurred, and the part he had unwittingly played in the ceremonial, resentment gave place to mirth, and he laughed uproariously.

"An' here's the rubies, Stewart, my man," he said, extracting the precious stones from some secret corner of his bedraggled wardrobe; "I got them safe efter a', and you shall have the finest are o' the collection for yer maist splendifferous efforts on my behalf."

Soon after we returned to camp, but it was many days later when we said goodbye to the lonely mountain which Mac persisted in misnaming El Dorado.

WHERE THE PELICAN BUILDS ITS NEST

There is little need to recount the monotonous details of my log-book for the many weeks that ensued. The same description applies to nearly all the vast interior country, and we struggled over ironshot sand-plains and through scraggy brushwood belts, with rarely a diversion in the landscape to gladden our weary eyes. The sun shines on no more desolate or dreary country than this great "Never Never" land of Australia, whose grim deserts have claimed many a victim to the cause of knowledge. The explorer's life amid the deadly solitudes is not one of many pleasures. Rather do unpleasant possibilities for ever obtrude upon his jaded brain until he is well-nigh distraught, or at least reduced to a morbid state of melancholy in keeping with his miserable surroundings. Little wonder, therefore, that disaster so often attends the traveller in these lonely lands. The strongest will becomes weakened by the insidious influences of the country, and the most buoyant spirit is quickly dulled. All Nature seems to conspire against him. The stunted mallee and mulga shrubs afford no welcome shade; they dot the sand-wastes in endless even growths, and the eye is wearied by their everlasting motionless presence. The saltbush clumps and spinifex patches conceal hideous reptiles. Snakes and centipedes crawl across the track; scaly lizards, venomous scorpions, ungainly bungarrows, and a host of nameless pests, are always near to torture and distract. Even the birds are imbued with a solemnity profound that adds still more to the plenteous cares that already overwhelm the wanderer in the silent bushland. The pelican stands owlishly in his path as if to guard from intrusion its undiscovered home; the horrible carrion crow with its demoralising croak is for ever circling overhead; and the mopoke's dull monotone is as a calling from a shadowy world.

These various influences were not without their effect upon my little party, and we became strangely silent as we kept up our dogged march of fifteen miles each day; and when danger threatened, as it did on more than one occasion, we almost viewed our approaching fate with indifference, so sodden had our mental faculties become. Eleven days after leaving the mountain, our last horse, "Sir John," dropped quietly to the ground, utterly exhausted, and at once the air was filled with screaming crows, and flies in thousands began to settle on the dying animal's heaving flank, and crowded into his ears and nostrils. I ended the poor brute's agony with a revolver shot, and again old "Slavery" received additional burden; then we hastened onwards, not daring to look back.

We were now many hundreds of miles from any outpost settlement, and with only two camels between us and--eternity. Yet these ponderous animals bore up bravely, seldom showing signs of weakness even when crossing the most dismally arid wastes, and their slow but sure movement raised our drooping spirits when our circling crow convoy became suggestively daring. I made a course due north, determined to intersect any promising country that might intervene in the middle latitudes, but so far our changed route had led us full three hundred miles over the most barren-looking desert that could possibly be imagined.

Only once did we observe natives, and that was when under the 23rd Parallel, in a scrubby country offering the only inducement to the poor nomads within a hundred miles. At this place we located a local well containing, seemingly, an unlimited supply of lime-flavoured fluid; our perilously-flat water-bags were thankfully refilled, and our hopes rose high at the unexpected find. But when we renewed our march the scrub-land soon merged into the blistering plain, and our dreams of a coming El Dorado were again rudely dashed.

On one occasion we encountered a stretch of salt-crusted country, evidently the bed of an ancient lake: it extended for five miles in a N.N.E. direction, and towards its latter extremity the surface was marshy and damp. We extracted sufficient moisture from the muddy basin for cooking our usual allowance of rice, so that we might save what remained of our comparatively fresh supply for more urgent needs.

Beyond this swamp we entered upon a more broken expanse than had met our view for many weeks. Decaying sandstone rocks reared their heads above the gravel, and enormous dry gullies tore up the ground in all directions. But this state of affairs did not continue with us long, and, as if by a grim law of compensation, a belt of the most miserable sand country soon intervened to retard our progress. Here the sand was loose and deep, and unmixed with the usual iron gravel; and the slightest wind blew the fine dust into our faces, almost blinding us. We sank over the ankles at each step, and the camels slowed their already slow march to a mere crawl, and staggered and floundered in the wavy masses.

Gradually the land-surface took on the appearance of a great sand-sea, with billows rolling back in a northwesterly direction. As far as the eye could reach, a series of gentle undulations rippled into the vast distance. I altered the course several points to eastward, and we traversed the disheartening obstacles at a difficult angle; but the undulations grew more general as we advanced, until they surrounded us in the form of seemingly endless furrows, about a hundred and fifty yards apart, and from ten to fifteen feet in height. A sparse vegetation of spinifex found root in the hill-crests, giving the appearance--from a distance--of a huge cultivated and well-tended field. But on closer acquaintance the ridges showed up miserably bare and cheerless, and their white gleaming sand formation caused our eyes to quiver and close, so trying was the light reflected from them. No life of any kind was observed. Even the crows had abandoned us. We seemed to be traversing the bed of an ocean whose waters had long since subsided. A day's march over these hindering obstructions, however, led us into the familiar ironshot and scrub country, which, desolate though it was, looked cool and inviting after our experience with the sand elevations.

More than once after this fortune favoured us opportunely by the happy location of a soak or claypan in our course, and we grew to trust Providence in a much greater measure than we had ever anticipated. The weather was almost unbearably hot; a vertical sun stared down on us in the daytime with burning intensity, and at night the air was as the breath of Hades. We were surely paying the penalty of the pioneer to the full.

By this time our clothing had reached a state far beyond repair, and we must have formed an extraordinarily dilapidated-looking quartet. Our garments, not very lavish from the start, had been discarded in tattered portions, and we were left with cool and scanty apparel, the sight of which would have caused the most abandoned tramp to turn aside in disgust. It came to be a subject of jocularity with us as we noted the gradual disintegration of our meagre remaining sartorial glory; and I was glad even for such an excuse to introduce the lighter vein into our conversation. "I'll shin be able tae flee," Mac would say, ruefully surveying his rags. "Ay, Mac, the wings are sproutin' awfu' fast," his comrade would sorrowfully reply. "Bit it's a blessin' the weather's no cauld," he never failed to add, with philosophical gratitude.