CHAPTER XII.
The girls in sun-bonnets--I advise the blacks--Fatal excitement--Last moments--The catastrophe--I cannot realise it--A fearful contrast--"Only a withered flower"-- Bruno's grief--Steering by the ant-hills--Avoiding the forests--Myriads of rats--The flowing of the tide--Rats and the native children--Clouds of locusts--Fish from the clouds.
The weeks gradually grew into months, and still we were apparently no nearer civilisation than ever.

Again and again we made expeditions to see whether it were possible for the girls to reach Port Darwin overland; but, unfortunately, I had painted for them in such vivid colours the tortures of thirst which I had undergone on my journey towards Cape York, that they were always afraid to leave what was now their home to go forth unprovided into the unknown.

Sometimes a fit of depression so acute would come over them, that they would shut themselves up in their room and not show themselves for a whole day.
We had a very plentiful supply of food, but one thing the girls missed very much was milk,--which of course, was an unheard-of luxury in these regions.

We had a fairly good substitute, however, in a certain creamy and bitter-tasting juice which we obtained from a palm-tree.

This "milk," when we got used to it, we found excellent when used with the green corn.