To tackle those ridges in our then plight meant grave risks to be run, and that night the responsibility of my position weighed heavily upon my thoughts.  I prayed for strength and determination—­for to each one of us must have come the thought of what our fate might be.  I feel sure that all were ready to face boldly whatever was in store, and were resolved to do their utmost—­and what more can man do?

To go forward was our only course, since we meant to get through.  Before sunrise, black and weary we started, having fed on tinned vegetables, the only article amongst our provisions possessing any moisture.

Before long we were amongst the ridges.  What a desolate scene!  Ridge upon ridge of sand, black from the ashes of burnt spinifex.  Not a sound or sign of life, except the grunts of the camels as they strained up the sandy slopes.  Presently we sighted a newly lighted hunting smoke, not a mile from us; with my field-glasses I could see the flames of the fiercely burning spinifex lapping the crest of a high sand-ridge.  Leaving the tracks I was following I rejoined the main party, and, calling to Charlie to accompany me, and to the others to follow us as fast as they could, I set off for the fire.  Having anticipated reaching the scene of the smoke early this morning, we had divided up Czar’s load amongst the remainder of the caravan, and for the time transformed him into a riding-camel, and so two of us were mounted.  On nearer approach we pulled up to give our steeds a blow, and, unseen ourselves, we watched the natives hunting, all unsuspicious of the near presence of beings and animals so strange in colour and form.

Advancing slowly from opposite directions, we were able to get within a hundred yards of them before our silent approach was noticed.  No words can describe the look of terror and amazement on the faces of those wild savages.  Spellbound they crouched in the black and smouldering ashes of the spinifex, mouths open and eyes staring, and then with one terrific yell away they ran, dodging and doubling until a somewhat bushy beefwood tree seemed to offer them means of escape.  How many there had been I do not know, but the tree harboured three, the man, woman, and child, that we had first singled out.  All kept up a ceaseless screaming and gesticulating, reminding me of the monkey-house at the “Zoo”; but above the others could be distinguished the voice of the old gin who, with frantic haste, tried to screen the man with branches broken from their tree of refuge, and who in the intervals between this occupation and that of shaking a stick at us, set a light to the surrounding spinifex either as a signal or with the hope of keeping us at a distance; for with all her fear she had not let drop her firestick.  Thinking that they would be completely overawed by the appearance of the rest of the caravan, and so make no further attempt to escape, we sat sentinel on our camels and awaited the arrival of the main party.  Presently