These locusts are of a yellowish-brown colour (many are grey), and they range in length from two to four inches.
As they rise in the air they make a strange cracking, snapping sound; and they were often present in such myriads as actually to hide the face of the sun.

I found them excellent eating when grilled on red-hot stones.
Yamba, of course, did all the cooking, making a fire with her ever-ready fire-stick, which no native woman is ever without; and while she looked after the supply of roots and opossum meat, I generally provided the snakes, emus, and kangaroos.

Our shelter at night consisted merely of a small _gunyah_ made of boughs, and we left the fire burning in front of this when we turned in.
When we had been fully three months out, a very extraordinary thing happened, which to many people would be incredible were it not recognised as a well-known Australian phenomenon.

We had reached a very dry and open grass country, where there was not a tree to be seen for miles and miles.

Suddenly, as Yamba and I were squatting on the ground enjoying a meal, we saw a strange black cloud looming on the horizon, and hailed its advent with the very greatest delight, inasmuch as it presaged rain--which is always so vitally important a visitation in the "Never Never." We waited in anticipation until the cloud was right over our heads.