"My Word!" - Cried Lizzie, Her Whole Face Lighting Up With Eagerness And
Joy - "My Word, Close Up Mine Been Forget.
Mine know one fellow bora
ground, plenty black fellow sit down there, mine believe.
My word, plenty
d - d fooly me!"
We could see from the girl's face that we were now on the right scent, and
having ascertained that she could take us to the "bora ground" by the
following evening, we finished our pipes, and lay down to sleep, thankful
for what promised a possible solution of the mystery.
The Cleveland Bay party consisted of seven white men and two black boys, so
we now mustered a strong force. Lizzie would hardly allow us time to
swallow our breakfast, so impatient was she to be under weigh; and one
wretched man, lingering for a moment later than the rest of us, over a
slice of beef and damper, found himself the object of general attention,
when our little guide stamped her foot, and, trembling with indignation,
said -
"Plenty big bingey (belly) that fellow. Baal he been fill 'em like 'it
sundown!"
The travelling was worse than ever now; up and down steep ravines in which
the tangled scrub grew so thickly that progress was almost impossible, and
we were compelled to wade along the bed of the creek; now tripping over a
sharp ledge of rock, now floundering up to the waistbelt in a treacherous
hole; past the base of a beautiful waterfall, where the action of the
torrent had worn a hollow basin in the rock, in which it sparkled, cool,
transparent, and prismatic, in the rays of the burning sun, and where the
view, so unlike the generality of Australian scenery, was perfectly
bewitching; on, through more scrub, through swamps, and over stiff
mountains, wet, draggled, moody, and cross, crawling along after the little
black figure in front, that held steadily on its way, as though hunger and
fatigue were to it things unknown.
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