The tracks led us along the foot of one ridge; along the next, some three hundred yards distant, the ladies of the tribe could be seen marching along, laughing and chattering, and occasionally giving forth the peculiar shrill yell which only the gins can produce.  It is impossible to describe a noise in writing, but the sound is not unlike a rather shrill siren, and the word shouted is a long-drawn “Yu-u-u.”  There is no mistaking the women’s voices, the men’s cry is somewhat deeper.  Both are rather weird sounds, more especially when heard in thick scrub where one can see no natives, though one hears them all round.  In the spinifex they were easily seen, and to their cry an answering yell came over the ridge and other women and children appeared.  Presently they saw our caravan, and the “Yu-u-u” became fainter and fainter as the group scattered in all directions, and was lost to view.  At the end of the tracks we found a camp, and in it the only attempt at a roofed shelter that we saw in the desert, and this merely a few branches leant against a small tree.  The camp-fire had spread and burnt the spinifex close by, which gave the spot anything but an inviting appearance.

Under the shelter were huddled together, asleep, two gins and a young man.  I have never seen more intense astonishment expressed in any one’s face than that shown by these three when we roused them.  All in their way were peculiar and deserving of description.  The young gin was by no means uncomely; well-shaped and healthy-looking, with a skin black and shining as a well smoked meerschaum, with beautiful teeth which were shown off to advantage by an extensive smile, when she found that we had no murderous intentions.  The other gin was the most repulsive object I have ever seen—­like a hideous toad with wrinkled, baggy skin, with legs and arms so thin as to be no more than skin stretched tight over very meagre shinbones; and the face of this wretched being was a mass of festering wounds, on which no one could look without pity and horror.  The man, too, was remarkable; an exceedingly smart young buck with an air of irresponsibility about him that suggested madness—­a suspicion amply confirmed by his subsequent behaviour.  His decorations added to his queer appearance; scarred by deep gashes on chest and arms, his body was daubed with red ochre, and his ribs picked out with white; on his head a kind of chignon formed of grass, hair, and string held his matted locks in place, like a bird’s nest on his crown; he had neither beard nor whiskers, and was not blessed with any article of clothing whatever.

He showed us their well, which was nearly dry, and then volunteered to lead us to others; and away he went, swaggering along and clicking his tongue in great glee, occasionally breaking out into shrieks of laughter.  When we arrived at one dry rock-hole and then another, it dawned upon me what the secret joke had been that so amused our friend; and I determined that he should be of some use to us before we parted company.