Czar lumbering along behind, and Warri shouting with glee and excitement,
"Chase 'em--we catch em," as if we were going through all this trouble
for pleasure. Happy Warri! he never seemed to see gravity in anything. It
is almost incredible how quickly and completely a black-fellow can
disappear; as if in a moment the whole family was out of sight. One black
spot remained visible, and on it I centred my energies. Quickly
overhauling, I overtook it, and found it to be an old and hideous gin,
who, poor thing! had stopped behind to pick up some dingo puppies.

Sorry as I was to be rude to a lady, I had to make her prisoner, but not
without a deal of trouble. "Dah, dah, dah!" she shouted, scratching,
biting, spitting, and tearing me with her horrid long nails, and using, I
feel sure, the worst language that her tongue could command. I had to
carry this unsavoury object back to her camp, she clutching at every bush
we passed, when her hands were not engaged in clawing and scratching me.
After her anger had somewhat abated she pointed out a rock-hole from
which they had got their water. Securing the woman with a light rope, I
put her in Warri's charge, who kept watch above, lest the natives should
return and surprise us, whilst I descended the rock-hole to see what
supply was there. A little water was visible, which I quickly baled into
the canvas bags we had brought for the purpose. The bottom of the hole
was filled in with dead sticks, leaves, the rotting bodies of birds and
lizards, bones of rats and dingoes. Into this ghastly mass of filth I
sunk up to my middle, and never shall I forget the awful odour that arose
as my feet stirred up the mess. Nevertheless water was there, and
thankful I was to find it, even to drink it as it was. After half an
hour's work in this stinking pit, sick from the combination of
smells--distinguishable above every other being the all-pervading perfume
of aboriginals--I was rewarded by some twelve gallons of water, or, more
properly speaking, liquid.