Chapter 3

It took an hour to sort out everyone’s baggage, research tools, pitch a two-man tent for Aggie and Lois (or should that be two-woman or two-person?) and another for Reg and Al. There was another tent, but I opted for my swag. There was nearly-zero chance of rain and barely more for a sandstorm.

“What about snakes?” Reg asked.

“It won’t get cold enough for my body heat to attract one. And I’m too large to swallow.”

That got a laugh from Lois. “Is that a challenge?” And that drew an “o-o-h” from Al.

“Anyway,” I said, “I’m going about 15 paces west, just beyond that small dune. My guess is that sunrise will be around 6:30, and that should give me an extra half-hour’s sleep.”

“The attitude of a true sundowner!” Aggie said, drawing another laugh.

“Sundowners only arrive at sundown,” Reg noted.

“I thought they came to stay overnight!”

“Wrong. Sundowners were transient workers who arrived at a holding too late in the day to do any real work, but who readily accepted food and lodging, and usually vanished in the morning.”

“Show off!” There was general laughter.

“Anyway, what do we do about tucker?” I asked.

“First night. We grill steaks. That’s it for fresh meat,” Reg responded.

“Bet there are witchetty bugs among the acacia shrubs.”

“Would you eat them?” asked Lois.

“Sure. And honey ants, too. If there are any. I’ll explore a bit in the morning, before it gets too hot.”

I took my kit to where I’d set up my camp. I took a pannikin and gathered some twigs and dead stems as I returned. I made a small fire with my fuel and stirred up flour, water and salt, buried it in the hot sand and moved the small fire over it.

“What’s up?” Al asked.

“Damper to go with the steaks.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure. Twenty to thirty minutes. But I’ll need some more brush. Fires need to be fed, too.” He chuckled, but walked toward the plane’s tracks and back, gathering litter. Lois wandered over, too.

“Aren’t you on walkabout?”

“Snarky. No, I’m used to being in the field. I like the land. I don’t suffer outdoors. As I said, it’s just water I’d get concerned about. But even without flour, there’s lots of grub. Only Europeans think the desert’s barren.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very. Over by that dune, there’s the track of a sand goanna. I didn’t stop to analyze it. But I’d guess it’s less that two days old. So it’d be no problem to find meat. And Aggie’d tell you that’s a quandong over there and the scruffy shrub’s an acacia, so there’s a good chance for witchetty bugs or honey ants.”

“I didn’t think you were serious before.”

“Oh, I’m serious. We’re the babes here. The Abos have been here for over 60 thousand years. We’ve been here since 1788. The Abos eat what’s here. Almost all we eat is what we brought with us: cattle and sheep; chickens and ducks; wheat and corn; beans and peppers. Have you ever tried wallaby or perentie?”

“I once had ‘roo tail but what’s perentie?”

“Monitor lizard. Big brother of the goanna. I think we’re too far south for them.”

“Good. I’ll keep my eye out for mallee, though.”

“Oh?”

“Mallee fowl are chicken-sized desert birds. There might a few around.”

“Steaks nearly done!” came a call.

“Five on the damper! I’ll bring it over.”

It was fun having a picnic on the sand. No green vegs. Beef, damper and tea.

“As good as it got a century or so ago!,” Al declared.

“Absolutely!” Reg responded. “Until the party ran out of sheep or whatever and they starved or died of thirst.”

“Or just went astray. Burke, Wills and Gray died. No one knows about Leichhardt.”

“Well, we know Sturt survived to a reasonable age.”

“Yes, but seriously ailing for the last two decades or so.”

“You boys are too morbid,” Aggie said.

“Time to set up your tents, boys and girls,” Reg responded.

“Not me,” I said. “I’m walking towards those shrubs. Lots of arthropods are crepuscular. I’ll observe for a while and doss down near there. In a few days I’ll rise early to observe the differences between dusk and dawn.”

“You must’ve been hell as a student!” said Aggie.

“I dunno. I bet Lois’ll want to see what’s flying at dusk and dawn.”

“I will. But not tonight.”

“If you see a dunnart or a marsupial mole, let me know tomorrow,” Al said.

“No problemo,” I responded.

I scoured the plate I’d used and my pannikin with a handful of sand and walked back to my gear. I took a few vials in various sizes and headed toward the acacia, but when I got near it, I saw a mallee a bit further on. I went towards it.

Sure enough, there were ants at the base of the mallee. Camponotus, of course. I’d get a few and type them later. Campnotus is one of the largest and most diverse groups of ants here in Australia. It includes the well known black and yellow ‘sugar ants’. But, more importantly, a common species of the gouldianus group nests in the soil at the base of mallees and it’s host to a peculiar long-legged eurymelid bug of the genus Pogonoscopus; during the day the bugs shelter in the ants’ nests, emerging at night, escorted by their hosts, to suck sap from the mallee trunks. So, I’ll watch. If I’m in luck, I’ll come back and try to find the bugs, too. I scooped two foragers into a vial and stoppered it.