She had discovered a small closet that housed a toilet and shower cubicle. Make up stood on shelves with violet and rose water scents in small perfume...bottles with old fashioned squeeze bulbs. Everything shouted 18th Century at her. The tapestries on the walls depicting hunting scenes from several hundred years ago, the heavy brocade bed cover, all came from the period.The owner of the soft knock peered around the edge of the door and introduced herself as Rose. She was tiny. Her small feet. We were finally in Alice Springs.Getting out of the car, late in the afternoon, I noticed something and told Weena to stand still. I squatted and looked in the dust."What's there?" An Odontomachus -- I didn't know there were any around here. Lots further north, some further south. Are you allergic to bites? Bee stings?" Allergic?" Weena looked at me."Folks can die from ant bites. I don't want to lose you ... yet." She punched me in the arm, not very hard. We looked at the map, worked out where. More

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