One part of the town swears at Brisbane when things go wrong, and the other part curses Sydney.
The country looks as though a great ash-heap had been spread out there, and mulga scrub and firewood planted―and neglected. The country looks just as bad for a hundred miles round Hungerford, and beyond that it gets worse―a blasted, barren wilderness that doesn't even howl. If it howled it would be a relief.
I believe that Burke and Wills found Hungerford, and it's a pity they did; but, if I ever stand by the graves of the men who first travelled through this country, when there were neither roads nor stations, nor tanks, nor bores, nor pubs, I'll―I'll take my hat off. There were brave men in the land in those days.
It is said that the explorers gave the district its name chiefly because of the hunger they found there, which has remained there ever since. I don't know where the ford comes in―there's nothing to ford, except in flood-time. Hungerthirst would have been better. The town is supposed to be situated on the banks of a river called the Paroo, but we saw no water there, except what passed for it in a tank. The goats and sheep and dogs and the rest of the population drink there. It is dangerous to take too much of that water in a raw state.
Except in flood-time you couldn't find the bed of the river without the aid of a spirit level and a long straight-edge. There is a Custom-house against the fence on the northern side. A pound of tea often costs six shillings on that side, and you can get a common lead pencil for fourpence at the rival store
