gh 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 first remained
perfectly still, with its lower eyelids completely drawn over the eyes,
giving it the appearance of being blind, which indeed the black assured
us that it was. . . ."

Most travellers cannot fail to have noticed how clay-pans recently filled
by rain, even after a prolonged drought, swarm with tadpoles and
full-grown frogs and numberless water insects, the presence of which must
only be explained by the ability of the frog to store his supply in his
own body, and the fact that the eggs of the insects require moisture
before they can hatch out.

Many a laugh we had round the camp-fire at night, and many are the yarns
that were spun. Few, however, were of sufficient interest to live in my
memory, and I fear that most of them would lose their points in becoming
fit for publication. "Gold," naturally, was the chief topic of
conversation, especially amongst the older diggers, who love to tell one
in detail how many ounces they got in one place and how many in another,
until one feels that surely they must be either millionaires or liars.
New rushes, and supposed new rushes, were eagerly discussed; men were
often passing and repassing our rock, looking for somebody who was
"on gold"--for the majority of prospectors seldom push out for themselves,
but prefer following up some man or party supposed to have "struck it
rich."

The rumours of a new find so long bandied about at length came true.
Billy Frost had found a thousand! two thousand!! three thousand
ounces!!!--who knew or cared?--on the margin of a large salt lake some
ninety miles north of Coolgardie. Frost has since told me that about
twelve ounces of gold was all he found, And, after all, there is not much
difference between twelve and three thousand--that is on a mining field.
Before long the solitude of our camp was disturbed by the constant passing
of travellers to and from this newly discovered "Ninety Mile"--so named
from its distance from Coolgardie.

As a fact, this mining camp (now known as the town of Goongarr) is only
sixty odd miles from the capital, measured by survey, but in early days,
distances were reckoned by rate of travel, and roads and tracks twisted
and turned in a most distressing manner, sometimes deviating for water,
but more often because the first maker of the track had been riding along
carelessly, ever