Less than a mile beyond where Breaden had turned back we came on the biggest camp of natives we had seen—­quite a village!  Perhaps a dozen little “wurlies” or branch-shelters were dotted about the foot of a sandhill.  Camped under them we found one buck, several gins, and numerous picaninnies; it was clear that more were not far off.  The first thing that struck us about the man was his complete assurance, and secondly his pronounced Jewish cast of features.  With an ulster and a few tall hats on his head he would have made a perfect “old clo’” man.  An oldish man this, with grizzled beard brought to a point, and in the end a tuft of a rat’s tall was twisted, others similarly adorning the ends of his moustache.  His hair was done in a round lump at the back, held in place by a sort of net of string.  His hair in front had been either pulled out or shaved off, giving him a very fine forehead.  His nose and lips were Jewish to a degree.  His womenfolk showed no such characteristics, most of them being remarkably plain, with the exception of one pretty little gin, who, poor thing, was suffering from a similar disease to the man we saw at Family Well.  We dressed her wounds with tar and oil, and I think relieved her sufferings somewhat.

Our next patient was a small boy, who, from his swollen appearance, had evidently enjoyed a hearty breakfast.  He had sore eyes, literally eaten away at the inner corners into deep holes, prevented from healing by the myriads of flies that hung in clouds round his head.  I made an application of some eye-lotion, at which he shrieked horribly, poor boy.  I had never used that particular brand before, and did not know its strength.  He was quite a small chap, and the old Jew held him in his arms whilst I doctored him, and nodded his head in approval.  They showed us their well close by, the usual sort, just at the foot of the sandhill, and we set to work in the customary style, the buck watching us with interest.  Feeling that there must be more natives about, and not liking a treacherous look in the old Jew’s eyes, we brought a couple of rifles to the mouth of the well.

Before long we heard the “Yu-u-u” of approaching black-fellows, and in a minute fifteen naked savages came bounding down the sandhill towards us.  Fortunately for them we saw they had no weapons; even so, it was a dangerous proceeding on their part, for some white men would have shot first and inquired about their weapons afterwards!  They were all big men—­the finest we saw anywhere excepting the two near Point Massie, and most of them had a marked Jewish look. [This peculiarity has been remarked amongst the natives of the McDonnell Ranges, Central Australia—­but nowhere else.] They were very friendly—­too much so—­for they crowded round us, patting us, and jabbering so that our work on the well was much hindered.  Presently more women came on the scene, and with many cries of “white-fella,” “womany,” their men made it clear that we might take the whole lot with us if we so desired!  This was hospitality, indeed; but underlying it, I fear, were treacherous designs, for the game of Samson and Delilah has been played with success more than once by the wily aboriginal.