At three o’clock in the afternoon we finally reached Perth. It was Thursday the eighteenth day of November. Many people rode out to meet us to escort us into the city.
The string was in desert marching order with Mr Giles in the lead. Mr Forrest was riding alongside Mr Giles. We crossed the bridge over the Swan River and marched until we reached the edge of the city. There we were met by the mayor, Mr George Shenton, and other members of the city council.
There was a brass band. Reechy shied at the drums but Mr Giles managed to keep her on the road. When I looked up I could see people lining the verandas and balconies above. There were hundreds of ladies all in dresses like Emmeline’s and the hats that she hates, and they were throwing flowers down on us. Flags and streamers lined the streets. We marched to a building called the Town Hall with the camels bellowing in time to the brass band. But no one seemed to mind their noise or mess.
We had to sit on a platform; there were more speeches. They said lots of astounding things about Mr Giles and how he travelled across the desert with nothing stronger than water to sustain him. There wasn’t much of that either.
Mr Giles stood to speak and the whole crowd grew silent. ‘Thank you. Yes, we have survived the hideous desert between our colonies. We have passed through a baptism worse than that of fire – the baptism of no water.’ Some people chuckled. ‘Under Divine Providence we only succeeded in crossing with our lives by the aid of some special members of our expedition,’ and here he paused before he added loudly, ‘the camels!’
When he said this the crowd cheered, a drum rolled and Salmah roared. I could hear her above the din.
We felt very welcome to this new colony and all our expenses were paid for, even Tommy’s bills for refreshments at the hotels. Alec bought presents and gave them to the young ladies. It was easy for the danger in the desert to seem far away. We received invitations to more balls, dinners, riding and boating parties, and picnics.
At one picnic I supervised camel rides. Dyabun was at my heels and many giggling young ladies, older than Emmeline, wanted to have a turn on Mustara or Reechy. One girl stared up at me and sighed. ‘You look like an Arab prince from a book,’ she said.
Tommy told dreadful stories about the camels biting the girls’ legs if they weren’t careful, and eating their own calves alive. I didn’t have the heart to challenge him: we had lost so many. One girl swooned. Tommy was smiling so much I wondered why they couldn’t tell he was teasing.
At Government House we were told there would be a public reception at Fremantle on the coast as well. That made Mr Giles look tired. I think he would have welcomed a second battle at Ularring rather than go to another ball.
At one function Padar said to some young ladies that it was he who brought the expedition over from Beltana. Mr Giles laughed when he heard him say that, but when you think about it, it’s true. Without Padar and me to tend the camels and Tommy to find the water would the English have survived 2,500 miles of waterless desert? Even with their instruments?
When I saw the Indian Ocean at Fremantle, Afghanistan and my brother Jamil seemed so far away. But I was surprised I didn’t mind as much as I thought I would. In a way I was like Tommy: we both would never return to our roots, but at least I had Padar and the knowledge deep within me of my mother’s love.
For seven months I saw no rivers or tall gum trees, just mulga or spinifex, sand and gibber plain, but I marched most of the length of this country and I called it home.