Crab-hole water.
Bold and abrupt range.
A glittering cascade.
Invisibly bright water.
The murmur in the shell.
A shower bath.
The Alice Falls.
Ascend to the summit.
A strange view.
Gratified at our discoveries.
Return to Fort Mueller.
Digging with a tomahawk.
Storing water.
Wallaby for supper.
Another attack.
Gibson's gardens.
Opossums destructive.
Birds.
Thoughts.
Physical peculiarities of the region.
Haunted.
Depart.
The way we wash our clothes is primitive--it can only be done at a
depot. When we have sufficient water, we simply put them into it, and
leave them until we want to change again, and then do the same with
those we take off; sometimes they sweeten for several days, oftener
much less. It is an inexpensive method, which, however, I suppose I
must not claim as an invention. On the 23rd, when we arrived, Gibson
informed us that the natives had been exceedingly troublesome, and had
thrown several spears and stones down from the rocks above, so that he
and Jimmy had had to defend themselves with firearms. Our bough-house
was a great protection to them, and it appeared also that these
wretches had hunted all the horses away from their feeding ground, and
they had not been seen for three days, and not having come up to water
all the time we were away.
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