Spinifex and Sand | Page 7

congratulating ourselves on the
nice little "plant" of water. Imagine our disgust, on returning in the
evening, at finding a mob of thirsty packhorses being watered from our
precious supply! There was nothing to be done but to pretend we liked
it. The water being on the rock was of course free to all.
How I used to envy those horsemen, and longed for the time when I
could afford horses or camels of my own, to go away back into the
bush and just see what was there. Many a day I spent poring over the
map of the Colony, longing and longing to push out into the vast blank
spaces of the unknown. Even at that time I planned out the expedition
which at last I was enabled to undertake, though all was very visionary,
and I could hardly conceive how I should ever manage to find the
necessary ways and means.
Nearly every week I would ride into Coolgardie for stores, and walk
out again leading the loaded packhorse, our faithful little chestnut
"brumby," i.e., half-wild pony, of which there are large herds running
in the bush near the settled parts of the coast. A splendid little fellow
this, a true type of his breed, fit for any amount of work and hardship.
As often as not he would do his journey into Coolgardie (twenty-five
miles), be tied up all night without a feed or drink--or as long as I had
to spend there on business--and return again loaded next morning.
Chaff and oats were then almost unprocurable, and however
kind-hearted he might be, a poor man could hardly afford a shilling a
gallon to water his horse. On these occasions I made my quarters at
Bayley's mine, where a good solid meal and the pleasant company of
Messrs. Browne and Lyon always awaited me. Several times in their
generosity these good fellows spared a gallon or two of precious water
for the old pony.
They have a funny custom in the West of naming horses after their
owners--thus the chestnut is known to this day as "Little Carnegie."
Sometimes they are named after the men from whom they are bought.
This practice, when coach-horses are concerned, has its laughable side,

and passengers unacquainted with the custom may be astonished to
hear all sorts of oaths and curses, or words of entreaty and
encouragement, addressed to some well-known name--and they might
be excused for thinking the driver's mind was a little unhinged, or that
in his troubles and vexations he was calling on some prominent citizen,
in the same way that knights of old invoked their saints.
Thus, our peaceful life at the "Twenty-five" passed on, relieved
sometimes by the arrival of horsemen and others in search of water.
Amongst our occasional visitors was a well-known gentleman, bearing
the proud title of "The biggest liar in Australia." How far he deserved
the distinction I should hesitate to say, for men prone to exaggerate are
not uncommon in the bush. Sometimes, however, they must have the
melancholy satisfaction of knowing that they are disbelieved, when
they really do happen to tell the truth. A story of my friend's, which
was received with incredulous laughter, will exemplify this.
This was one of his experiences in Central Australia. He was perishing
from thirst, and, at the last gasp, he came to a clay-pan which, to his
despair, was quite dry and baked hard by the sun. He gave up all hope;
not so his black-boy, who, after examining the surface of the hard clay,
started to dig vigorously, shouting, "No more tumble down, plenty
water here!" Struggling to the side of his boy, he found that he had
unearthed a large frog blown out with water, with which they relieved
their thirst. Subsequent digging disclosed more frogs, from all of which
so great a supply of water was squeezed that not only he and his boy,
but the horses also were saved from a terrible death!
This story was received with laughter and jeers, and cries of "Next
please!" But to show that it had foundations of truth I may quote an
extract from "The Horn Scientific Expedition to Central Australia"
(part i. p. 21), in which we read the following:--
". . . The most interesting animal is the Burrowing or Waterholding
Frog, (CHIROLEPTES PLATYCEPHALUS). As the pools dry up it
fills itself out with water, which in some way passes through the walls
of the alimentary canal, filling up the body cavity, and swelling the
animal out until it looks like a small orange. In this condition it
occupies a cavity just big enough for the body, and simply goes to sleep.
When, with the aid of a native, we cut it out of its hiding-place, the
animal at