It’s the end of October and the rains are late. The waterhole has shrunk to a muddy fraction of its wet season fullness. The dry, straw coloured grass is more an illusion than fact. With a closer look one can see that it is not grass at all but the dry, sunburnt remnants of the black jacks, khaki weed and other “herbs” that were so effective at concealing the animals during the wet season.