It was sad to think of
our camels dying thus after so many hundred miles of desert bravely
traversed - yesterday a picture of strength and life, to-day food for
those scavengers of the bush, the dingoes. What satisfied howls they gave
forth all night long; for, like crows or vultures, they seem to collect
from far and wide round the body of any dead thing. From our camp Mount
Erskine was visible, but not of sufficiently inviting appearance to make
a visit worth while.
On the 15th all were off the sick list and ready to march. I felt
sorrowful indeed at the loss of the camels, but thankful that no more had
died, and more thankful still that we had been able to camp whilst poor
Breaden and Charlie regained their health. Such a sickness in the heart
of the desert could have had but one ending.
Our way lay over spinifex plains until just north of the hills a
sand-ridge was crossed, remarkable from its regular shape and wonderfully
straight course, as if it had been built to most careful measurements and
alignment.
The 16th of November was a red-letter day, for on it we crossed the LAST
SAND-RIDGE - in lat. 19 degrees 20 minutes - leaving the desert behind us.
A feeling of satisfaction filled us that we had conquered its
difficulties not by chance, but by unremitting toil and patience.
