Had I known how long our stay in the North was to be, I should have taken the opportunity of further studying the natives and their habits, and should certainly have visited them in their wild homes in the unknown portion of Kimberley.  As it was I daily expected a message asking me to start in search of the missing men, and held myself in readiness accordingly.  Our small caravan, now further reduced by the death of Czar—­a sad loss, for he was one of my old friends, and one of the staunchest camels I have known (together we had seen many a tough bit of work); he fell down a steep gully at night, poor old beast, and so injured himself that he died almost immediately—­was increased by the purchase of three horses, with which I intended to carry out my plan of search; since, however, it was never instituted, I need not explain its nature.  It sufficiently accounts for the presence of horses in the caravan with which the return journey was made.

As time dragged on it became clear that the missing men could no longer be living, and since there were two search parties already in the field, I felt that I was only wasting time by staying longer in idleness.  We were too far off to make any search except by a protracted expedition, and, since I was morally sure of the men’s death, I did not feel called upon to expose my party to the risks of the desert when no useful object could be accomplished.  Had the intervening country been unknown I should have been quite ready to start forth, for in that case, whatever the result of the search, I should have felt rewarded for any losses incurred, by the knowledge that we had been the means of opening up a further tract of an unexplored region.  As it was we should only have followed a route previously traversed by Warburton, from which, unless we achieved the melancholy satisfaction of finding the scene of the disaster, no useful results could follow.  I determined, therefore, to leave the search to those who could best afford the time and expense, and set about planning our return to Coolgardie.  We had four routes open to us—­either the road to Derby and thence by steamer:  the road to Derby and thence along the coastal telegraph line:  the way we had come:  and an entirely new route, taking our chances of the desert.  The first was dismissed as feeble, the second as useless, and the third as idiotic.  Therefore the fourth remained, and though it was natural enough for me to wish to win distinction in the world of travel (and I daresay this was the motive that inspired me), surely it speaks well for them indeed, that Breaden and Massie were willing to accompany me.