Had, however, the intervening country been of the same level as the lake, and flat instead of formed into high sand ridges and hills, there might have been a possibility of crossing a connecting creek of the same character as the Sturt without noticing it.  This question has been much discussed by gentlemen interested in the geography of interior Australia, and therefore I have dealt with it at some length.

CHAPTER III

OUR CAMP ON THE “SALT SEA”

April 2nd to 7th we were the guests of Mr. Stretch, and whilst resting here Godfrey’s eyes soon became well enough to allow him to travel.  On the 7th, therefore, we set forth on our journey and bade adieu to the last outpost of civilisation in the North.  Our party was further increased by a Sturt Creek boy, Tiger by name—­a very smart and intelligent fellow of whom Mr. Stretch was very glad to see the last, for smart boys are nearly always the most mischievous amongst the cattle.  Warri and Tiger were great friends, and the new boy’s presence put Warri on his mettle, and no amount of work was too hard for him whilst he had Tiger to show off to.  After I had cut his hair and shampooed his head with kerosene and soap, dressed him in trousers, shirt, and cap, he looked a most presentable youth.

Mr. Stretch accompanied us down the creek for the first few days, during which we passed some of his cattle and horses.  The flies and mosquitoes worry the poor beasts terribly, and all day long the horses stand in the water in pairs, or in a line, with head to tail, each one flicking the flies from his neighbour’s face with his tail.  This habit of standing up to the girth in water has given rise to a horse sickness known as “swamp-cancer.”  The skin under the belly becomes so soft that at last a raw place is formed, and this, aggravated by the flies, spreads until it becomes a serious disease.  Another horse-sickness common in the North is called the “Puffs.”  A horse suffering from this pants and blows after the least exertion, and in the hot weather his skin becomes puffy, and any violent exercise would be fatal.  The Monk, one of our horses, suffered from this slightly; as soon, however, as we had left the Kimberley district and entered the desert he recovered entirely.  Numerous small families of natives were camped along the creek, all accompanied by dogs, which gave us some annoyance at night; for salt meat, at first, should be hung out during the night to get the benefit of the fresh air, and this roused their hungry instincts.  A few miles below the Wolf, Mr. Stretch left us, and we parted from our kind host with regret—­he to return to his cattle, and we to the task of laying bare the richness (we hoped) or the nakedness (we expected) of the untrodden land before us.