...which is the head quarters of the Glen Helen Station owned by an old man of the name Ragart. We did not see him but several of his black stock boys came across and from one we got a skull in good condition and an almost complete set of bones. We spent the day here in and out of the pool and Murch did a couple of paintings of the gorge and one of Mt Sonder in the distance. We sounded the depth of the pool very carefully below some rocks which made a natural diving tower and soon had all the natives in the district cheering us on at the diving. I was not the star performer being hardly able to swim. We had dug a soak the night before in the sand near the hole which came through just as bad as the rock hole water. However, this morning it had improved a little, but the addition of tea made it foul, rather than clearing it up.
Sunday 5/2/1933
Today, the last day of the trip was hot as hell, with the wind blowing at gale force sometimes making one as dry as a bone. We were late in starting as the camels had gone off a long way during the interval, but we eventually got a start about 8 a.m. and backtracked through the gorge along our own tracks for a couple of miles. In the daytime the sand looked dirty (continues...)
