WHERE THE PELICAN BUILDS 145 



Shortly after our departure from McGrath's 

 Flat, the rainclouds rolled away to the west, and in 

 sunshine the lake revealed fresh beauties. The water 

 was dark purple where cliffs cast shadows, green in 

 the shallows, and azure in mid-stream. Islets, barren 

 or covered with bushes, rugged headlands, and little 

 bays appeared in succession as we followed the wind- 

 ing road. We attempted to cross the lake to the 

 white dunes, wishing to gaze at the ocean. Waves 

 thundered along the hidden beach, but the sound that 

 reached us was a musical murmur. It was high tide, 

 and, when we were only a few yards from the shore, 

 water splashed into the vehicle. So Bob decided not 

 to risk the ford, and we continued cur journey on dry 

 land. As the shadows mustered and skirmished with 

 the light, the lake water became more beautiful 

 purple, green and blue were flushed with rose. Night 

 came swiftly, and all the bright colours faded into 

 cold blue-gray. Presently, as we swung round a 

 bend, a light shone far ahead. At Woods Wells, 

 a boundary rider, his wife and child occupied an old 

 stone building on the headland, and we received a 

 warm welcome. After tea, our driver and the 

 station hand told tales of old times, when settlers 

 were few and natives roamed freely all over the lake 

 country. One story dealt with the wild deeds of a 

 white man, who has become a legendary figure in 

 Coorong history. 



Before sunrise the boundary rider was astir. He 

 returned for breakfast after visiting a dozen traps, 

 dragging by the tail a big Fox. We had heard many of 

 the red-furred raiders barking through the night. 

 This morning the sky was clear, and we resumed our 

 journey in pleasant sunshine, though there was still 

 a nip in the air. Birds were singing blithely in the 

 scrub, and, crossing a flat, the horses flushed numbers 

 of Ground-Parrots [Pezoporus forrnosus] from the 

 grass. Disturbed at breakfast, the birds alighted 



