"A breeze of wind would have lifted that fog," hazarded Jack. "I should think that on some days the clouds would not be nearly so constant nor so thick."
"You're possibly right, Jack," mused Mackay, looking upwards. "See how the smoke curls in to the west now."
They all followed his gaze, and, surely enough, the mists appeared to bend over before a powerful air current and break off into numberless flying patches of lambent spray. Assuredly, a fairly strong blast must be blowing on the mountain summit, though all was serene and unmoved below. They now bethought themselves of having an inspection of the wonderful elevation, which they had reached after so much weary striving. There it stood, gaunt and bare, precipitous in outline, and rising almost sheer to a height of over eight hundred feet, and as far as the eye could reach in either direction along the base, the same grim barrier appeared, but it curved in almost imperceptibly at each limit of observation.
"The monument might stretch across into Queensland," said Emu Bill, "if we tried to follow it round. I vote we does a scramble over the top."
"I tried that before, Bill," answered Mackay, "but I'm going to try it again. Only we'll look for the easiest side before we start."
"But what about the camels?" asked Jack. "We can never get them over it."
"An' we've got to remember that there's an all-fired quantity o' bloodthirsty niggers about," said Never Never Dave.
"Suppose we hobble them out on the other side of the smoke," suggested Bob. "If the blacks stay beyond the mountain they couldn't very well see them so close in, and the camels are too tired to wander much."
"It's a risk, Bob," said Mackay; "but the whole journey has been a risk, an' it's the best we can do. We can keep an eye on them from the top—if we get there."
"An' our rifles can speak for us from there well enough," laughed Emu Bill; "an' there's one howlin' satisfaction about it, there's nary spear could reach us."