" . . .  Both ends of the shoes were rounded off, and were exactly similar to one another, which has given rise to the erroneous idea that their object was to prevent the wearer being tracked . . .”

But no other explanation is offered.

Breaden says tracks of a man wearing these emu-feather shoes are very indistinct, but has no certain knowledge of their use.  Warri, looking at the bark sandals, said, “Black-fella wear ’em ’long a hot sand.”  Questioned about the emu-feather shoes, he gave the usual answer, “I dunno,” and then added, probably to please me, as I had suggested the explanation, “Black-fella no more see ’em track, I think.”

It was clear that no good results were likely to follow further search in this locality, for the tracks were so numerous, and crossed and recrossed so often, that nothing could be made out of them.  The country to the North being so uninviting, I altered our course to North-East, and again to North, when we sighted a smoke, and, following tracks, camped on them.

“Mud and oatmeal for breakfast,” September 14th; truly the sage spoke who remarked, “What does not fatten will fill.”  Such was our fare, and the only doubt we had was lest the compound should be turned into brick by the sun’s heat!  However, it was sustaining enough to last us all day, occupied in tracking.  Two dry wells, connected by a well-trodden pad half a mile long, rewarded our labours; and here we had the conviction forced upon us that the blacks themselves were hard pressed:  we could see where dust and dirt had been recently removed from the bottom of the wells, both of which were over fifteen feet in depth, and one over twenty.  Were the natives hard pressed for water, or had they heard of our coming, and were by smokes guiding us to empty wells?  Unpleasant speculation, when one’s tanks contain nothing but a nasty brown liquid, and the country looks as if it had not known rain for years!

September 15th.  Another smoke to the North-East; again we steer for it, as if following a will-o’-the-wisp.  The continued semi-starvation, hard work, and heat was beginning to leave its mark.  None of our friends or relatives would have recognised us now!  Clothed in filthy rags, with unkempt hair and beards, begrimed with mud, and burnt black by the sun wherever its rays could penetrate our armour of dirt, we were indeed a pretty lot.  That night we tied the camels down—­there was no feed for them; besides, I wished them handy in the morning, for we could not be far from natives now unless the smoke had deceived us.  The next day the desolation of the country was increased by vast areas of burnt ground, from which rose clouds of dust and ashes—­no gravel was here to arrest the onslaught of the wind upon the sand.  Towards evening we were doomed to experience fresh discouragement, for in front of us, seen from rising ground, there stretched ridge upon ridge of barren sand, black from the charred remains of spinifex.