Omerod was attended to.  There he lay, half buried in salt mud, chewing his cud unconcernedly; either he had perfect confidence in us, or was indifferent as to his fate—­he looked rather as if he were saying “Kismet.”  We had some trouble in digging him out, during which operation Luck fared as I had done before; he was pinned beneath the camel, waist deep in clay, and in that position had to emulate the stolid patience of Omerod until I could dig him out.  At last they were both free, and after considerable labour we landed on the island, camels, baggage, and all, just as night fell.  We were cold too, clothes and arms and faces covered with moist salt clay, and nothing with which to make a fire but sprigs of dead samphire.  A cold night means an early start—­so we were up betimes and found that the camels, not tied, since we thought them safe on an island, had in search of feed hobbled across the lake, and were standing disconsolate on this sea of mud, afraid to move now that in daylight they could see their surroundings.  A repetition of the preceding day’s performance, landed us beyond the treacherous lake-bed, and the following day we were fortunate in finding a fine rock-hole of water, which enabled us to reappear as white men.

Mirages are nearly always to be seen on these lakes of the interior, and from their occurrence it is impossible to determine the extent of the flat expanse of mud.  On this occasion I witnessed the finest I have ever seen.  The hot sun playing upon the damp breeze rising from the lake, transformed this desolate sea of salt and clay, into a charming picture.  The horizon and the sky were joined by a mirage of beautiful clear water, from which islands and hills seemed to rise; even their shadows and those of the trees with which they were clothed were reflected in the unruffled surface of the lake.  The long stretch of sand between, gave the picture the appearance of a peaceful, natural harbour, which the tide was about to fill.

We were unable to pay more than a flying visit to Mount Ida, but sufficiently long to assure us of the auriferous character of its neighbourhood.  It is quite an imposing hill, rough, dark, and rugged, and formed as if layers of black slate had been thrown violently against each other.  It rises some five hundred feet above the surrounding country.

We needed all our time to reach Siberia, before our provisions gave out.  There we arrived in due course, passing close, on our way, to the hills near which Menzies afterwards made his great “find.”

At Siberia a Government survey party, under Messrs. Newman and Brazier, was camped, preparatory to running a line to connect Coolgardie and the Murchison.  Bidding them adieu, we took the road to Coolgardie, and arrived there on June 22nd after an absence of exactly ninety days, having travelled 843 miles.  The result of the journey to ourselves was nil, for the company considered that the reef we had found was too far off, and took no further steps to develop it.  It was afterwards under offer for 13,000 pounds in cash and shares, though whether the deal came off or not, or what the mine was worth, I am not aware.