would notice it, and then a great scramble ensued and the weakest went without—­though I have seen the strong help the weak, as in the case of Czar, who, with his powerful jaws, would break down branches for Misery, then quite young and without the requisite teeth.  How fine they look with their long necks stretched upwards with the heads thrown back and the sensitive lips extended to catch some extra fresh bunch of leaves!  How cunningly they go to work to break a branch that is out of reach; first the lowest leaf is gently taken 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.