th Her
Majesty's mighty name, calling it the Great Victoria Desert, and the
spring, Queen Victoria's Spring. In future times these may be
celebrated localities in the British Monarch's dominions. I have no
Victoria or Albert Nyanzas, no Tanganyikas, Lualabas, or Zambezes,
like the great African travellers, to honour with Her Majesty's name,
but the humble offering of a little spring in a hideous desert, which,
had it surrounded the great geographical features I have enumerated,
might well have kept them concealed for ever, will not, I trust, be
deemed unacceptable in Her Majesty's eyes, when offered by a loyal and
most faithful subject.

On our arrival here our camels drank as only thirsty camels can, and
great was our own delight to find ourselves again enabled to drink at
will and indulge in the luxury of a bath. Added to both these
pleasures was a more generous diet, so that we became quite enamoured
of our new home. At this spring the thorny vegetation of the desert
grew alongside the more agreeable water-plants at the water's edge, so
that fertility and sterility stood side by side. Mr. Young planted
some seeds of numerous vegetables, plants, and trees, and among others
some of the giant bamboo, Dendrocalamus striatus, also Tasmanian blue
gum and wattles. I am afraid these products of Nature will never reach
maturity, for the natives are continually burning the rough grass and
spinifex, and on a favourably windy occasion these will consume
everything green or dry, down to the water's edge. There seems to be
very little native game here, though a number of bronze-winged pigeons
came to water at night and morning. There are, however, so many small
native wells besides the larger sheet, for them to drink at, and also
such a quantity of a thorny vegetation to screen them, that we have
not been very successful in getting any. Our best shot, Mr. Young,
succeeded in bagging only four or five. It was necessary, now that we
had found this spring, to give our noble camels a fair respite, the
more so as the food they will eat is very scarce about here, as we
have yet over 300 miles to travel to reach Mount Churchman, with every
probability of getting no water between. There are many curious flying
and creeping insects here, but we have not been fortunate in catching
many. Last night, however, I managed to secure and methylate a
good-sized scorpion. After resting under the umbrageous foliage of the
cypress-pines, among which