At first we did very small stages, for the joy of travelling alongside running water was too great to be quickly passed over.  The camels and horses became good chums very soon, and played about together without any signs of fear or surprise on the part of the horses, although they had never seen camels before—­a different state of affairs from that in Coolgardie, where horses as a rule snort and plunge with terror on first acquaintance with an “emu-brother,” as the black-fellow calls the camel.  As we neared the lakes we had some difficulty in finding water fit to drink, and camped about nine miles above the lakes, whilst Godfrey and I scouted ahead to see if fresh water could be found lower down.  We surprised two camps of natives, most of whom ran into the scrub as we approached—­several gins and a boy remaining.  One of the women had a most remarkable baby, quite a small thing, but with a tremendous growth of black hair, shiny and straight, altogether different from the ordinary coarse hair of the aboriginal.  They came with us, walking beside us as we rode, jabbering and gesticulating in their usual excited manner, and inviting us to their camp, pointing to the rising smoke.  Water, however, was our requirement, so we continued on our way down the creek, the boy coming with us.  We shot a few ducks which our young friend retrieved, and having found a reach of fresh water just above the first and smaller lake, returned campwards, surprising a hunting-party on our way; they retired quickly, the boy following them, taking with him the ducks which we had been at such pains to stalk!

The next day we moved camp to the fresh-water reach, and had not been travelling long before a small tribe of blacks came round us, quickly followed by our friends of the day before, and presently by more, until we were marching along with a wild escort of nearly a hundred, mostly men; they were fearfully excited, though quite friendly, and with yells and shouts danced alongside, waving their spears and other weapons.  I never heard such a babel, or saw such frantic excitement about nothing, or at least nothing that we could understand.  Their wildness was tempered with some fear of the camels, though with the horses they were quite familiar, even going so far as to hit poor old Highlander, that I was riding, on the rump with their spears, a proceeding that he did not approve of.  “Womany,” “Womany,” “White-fella,” “Womany,” “White-fella,” they kept on shouting; if they meant to call our attention to the beauties of their gins they might well have spared themselves the trouble, for a more hideous lot of females I never set eyes on.  Presently another wild yell heralded the approach of a large band of “womany” who waded breast deep across the creek, followed by their dogs swimming behind.  These were no improvement on the first lot; all the old and ugly ladies of the neighbouring tribes must have been gathered together.  Their dogs however, were worthy of notice, for they