Explorations in Australia: The Journals of John McDouall Stuart, John McDouall Stuart

Sunday, 3rd August, Kekwick's Large Springs. Last evening, just as the sun was dipping, five natives made their appearance, armed with spears, and came marching boldly up to within eighty yards of the camp, where they were met by Mr. Kekwick and others of the party who had advanced to meet them. They were all young men, small, and very thin. Seeing so many approaching them they soon went off. They were all smeared over with burnt grass, charcoal, or some other substance of that description. This morning, shortly after sunrise, the same five again made their appearance. I went up to them to see what they wanted. Saw that they had painted their bodies with white stripes ready for war. As it is my intention to pass peaceably through the different tribes, I endeavoured to make friends with them by showing them we intended them no harm if they will leave us alone. One of them had a curious fish spear, which he seemed inclined to part with, and I sent Mr. Kekwick to get some fish-hooks to exchange with him, which he readily did; we then left them. They continuing a longer time than I wished, and gradually approaching nearer to our camp, thinking perhaps they really did not wish to part with the spear, I sent Mr. Kekwick back with it to them to see if that was what they wanted, and to take the fish-hooks from them. But when they saw what was intended, they gave back the spear and retained the hooks. They offered another with a stone head upon the same terms, which was accepted. Mr. Kekwick had a deal of trouble before he could get them to move off, when they were joined by another, and then went off by twos. In a short time they set fire to the grass all round us to try to burn us out. Two of them came again close to the camp under pretence of looking for game before the fire, at the same time setting fire to the grass closer to us. But Mr. Kekwick and one of the others, seeing their intention, ran up to them, who, on their approach, ran off, setting fire to the grass as they went along, which gave us a deal of trouble in putting out, as we wished to save as much feed for the horses as will do for them till to-morrow morning; we have managed that, if they do not come and set fire to it again. If they do I shall be compelled to use preventive means with them, for I can stand it no longer; they must be taught a lesson that we possess a little more power than they anticipate. I would have moved on, but some of my horses are so ill that they are unable to travel. If the natives we have seen to-day are a sample of those that inhabit this country, they are certainly the smallest and most miserable race of men that I have ever seen. In height about five feet, their arms and legs remarkably thin, they do not seem to want the inclination of doing mischief if they could get an opportunity, but they find we are rather too watchful to give them a chance. From their manner I have no doubt there were many more concealed, who intended attacking us under cover of the smoke—indeed if they see us unprepared they may yet do it before evening. At sundown they have not again made their appearance. Wind, south.

Monday, 4th August, Kekwick's Large springs. Proceeded to the Katherine and camped. The horse that knocked up on Saturday gave in again two miles before we arrived here, although the distance is only thirteen miles, and he had a rest all Sunday. I shall be compelled to leave him here; he only destroys other horses dragging him along, and as the season is so far advanced, I am doubtful of the water in some of the ponds, and therefore cannot stop with him. I have been so very unwell to-day, with symptoms of fever, that I could scarcely reach this place; but I hope I shall be better by to-morrow. Nights and mornings are now very cold, but the sun is very hot during the middle and afterpart of the day. Wind, south-east.

Tuesday, 5th August, The Katherine. Leaving the knocked-up horse behind, proceeded to the Fanny, and camped. It was as much as I could do to sit in the saddle this distance. Wind, south.

Wednesday, 6th August, The Fanny. Proceeded to the Waterhouse and camped. The natives have been along our track, and burned the grass to within three miles of our camp. On arriving here I was much disappointed on finding all the water gone, but, following back the north-west branch, I found enough for our use to-night and to-morrow morning. The country is all on fire to the south-east. Wind, variable. The journey has been rather rough and stony, and my weak horses feel it very much. I am afraid I shall be compelled to leave some more of them behind. I cannot now stay for them to recover, after seeing the rapidity with which this water has dried up. A long delay will cause my retreat to be cut off in the pond country. Wind, south-east. There is still permanent water up the north-west branch of this creek.

Thursday, 7th August, The Waterhouse. Started at half-past seven, and at two minutes past ten o'clock I arrived at the running stream (the Chambers) of the 4th ultimo and camped. Weak horses looking very bad. Country on fire round about us. A number of natives have been following on our former tracks. Wind, south.

Friday, 8th August, Running Stream, The Chambers. Crossed the hard sandstone range, and got upon the branch of the Chambers that I followed up, passing our camp of 3rd ultimo, with plenty of permanent water. Followed it down to our camp of the 2nd ultimo and remained there. Had to leave one of the done-up horses about two miles behind. Another horse gave in, and it was as much as Mr. Kekwick could do to get him thus far. The natives have burned all the grass throughout this day's journey. A little has escaped at this camp, and I am now compelled to give my horses a rest until Monday morning. I thought they would have been able to carry me across the Chambers before I gave them a rest, but, if I proceed further, I shall lose more of them. The weather is beginning to be again very hot in the middle of the day. Wind, south-east.

Saturday, 9th August, River Chambers. Resting horses. Day hot. Wind variable.

Sunday, 10th August, River Chambers. Resting horses. I have sent Thring to bring up the one that was left behind on Friday; in a short time he brought him up, looking a most deplorable picture; the other one that gave in the same day is quite as bad. I shall have to leave them behind; it is only destroying other horses to force them along. I must also reduce the weight the others are carrying, to enable them to get along. I have had all the saddle-bags overhauled, and shall leave everything we can possibly do without—even boots and clothes belonging to the party have not been spared; all were quite willing to sacrifice anything they had, with the exception of one who had a pair of new boots he had never put on. I told him to put them on, and leave the old ones, but he immediately told me that he had got a bad foot; I very soon cured him of that by telling him if that was the case he might leave the new ones. I have managed to leave about three hundredweight; many of the things I can ill spare, but I hope by doing this to be able in a short time to push on a little quicker. Light winds, variable.

Monday, 11th August, River Chambers. Two of the horses having strayed this morning, it was a quarter past nine before I could get a start. I had to proceed very slowly, in consequence of five of the horses being so ill that they were unable to walk quickly. Proceeded on my former tracks, cutting off the bends of the river. In some places it is very stony. Late in the afternoon managed to get all the horses to the first camp on this river. Light winds, south-east.

Tuesday, 12th August, River Chambers. Horses missing again this morning. Started at half-past eight. Proceeded to the south-east end of the reedy swamp, and at half-past three o'clock camped. An hour before halting, we surprised a number of native women and children who were preparing roots and other things for their repast. The moment they saw us they seized on their children, placed them on their shoulders, and ran off screaming at a great rate, leaving all their things behind them, amongst which we saw a piece of iron used as a tomahawk; it had a large round eye into which they had fixed a handle; the edge was about the usual tomahawk breadth; when hot it had been hammered together. It had apparently been a hinge of some large door or other large article; the natives had ground it down, and seemed to know the use of it. Left their articles undisturbed, and proceeded to the river Roper. My horses are still looking very bad. The cause must be the dry state of the grass; it is so parched up that when rubbed between the hands it becomes a fine powder, and they must derive very little nourishment from it. I can hear natives talking and screaming on the other side of the river, which at this place is a strong running stream about thirty yards wide and apparently deep. Wind, south-east, blowing strong.

Wednesday, 13th August, Roper River, Reedy Swamp. One of the horses missing again this morning; he is one that generally goes off and hides himself if he can find a place to do so. Searched all round, but could find nothing of him or his tracks. Thinking that he might be hidden amongst the thick bushes over the river, sent Frew to look through them on foot, and Mr. Kekwick to an open place up the river to see if he had got into it. Mr. Kekwick returned in a short time and reported that he saw him lying drowned in the middle of it. I am sorry for this: he was a good horse, in fair condition, was with me last year, and has always done his work well, although he has caused a deal of trouble and loss of time by so frequently concealing himself. I shall feel his loss very much, as so many of the other horses are so poor that they are able to carry but little of a load, and I am obliged to let four go without carrying anything; indeed it is as much as they can do to walk the day's journey, although the journeys are short. I shall be compelled to make them still shorter to try and get them round again. As we were saddling, one native man and two women made their appearance and came close to the camp. Mr. Kekwick and I went up to them; the man was middle-aged, stout and tall, the women were also tall, one especially. Their features were not so coarse as those we had seen before—a very great difference between this fellow and those I saw on the source of the Adelaide River. The man made signs that he would like to get a fishhook by bending his forefinger and placing it in his mouth, imitating the method of catching fish. I gave him one with which he was much pleased: I also gave a cotton handkerchief to each of the women; one of them no sooner got it than she held out the other hand and called out "more, more, more;" with that request I did not feel inclined to comply. They remained until we started. Proceeding about three quarters of a mile down the river to where I had crossed it before, I got all the horses over without difficulty. There is now no difference in the strength, depth, nor velocity of the stream since we were here; it is exactly in the same state as when we previously crossed it. After crossing it to the other side, I had to cross another deep although dry creek coming from the east; proceeded on a south-east course to avoid the deep boggy creek that comes into the river, but at two miles I was stopped by an immense number of springs, very boggy, and emitting a large quantity of water; they seem to come from the east, as far as I could see, in a wooded valley between two hills. I had to round them until I got upon the south-east course again. At seven miles came upon a large creek or chain of ponds, having long broad deep reaches of water; followed this, running nearly my course for seven miles in a straight line. Camped. My horses cannot do more. The country that I have travelled over to-day is of the very finest description, rich black alluvial soil, completely matted with grass, the water most excellent and abundant. The timber, gum and melaleuca, a few of the trees resembling the shea-oak also; a few of the fan palms growing among the springs, very tall, upwards of forty feet; the cabbage palm, and a number of other bushes. The general course to-day has been about east-south-east. Wind variable.

Thursday, 14th August, Springs and Chains of Ponds South of the Roper. Started at half-past seven, intending to follow a south-east course to make the Mussel Camp on the 23rd of June; but, meeting with another large creek with continuous water, deep, broad, and boggy, also a number of springs and water creeks, so boggy that I could not cross them, had to twist and turn about very frequently, and sometimes to go quite back again, before I could clear them—which brought me often close to the river again. About eleven o'clock, as I was approaching the east end of a low rocky range of hills, where I expected to get rid of all the boggy ground, I was again stopped by a broad, deep, and boggy sheet of water. A few minutes before coming to it, I was seized with a violent pain under the right shoulder-blade, which deprived me of breath and power of utterance: it darted through my body like lightning, causing the most excruciating pain that I have ever felt during my life. I had to halt the party, and was lifted from the saddle completely powerless. After dismounting, the pain became so violent, and the torture so excessive, that I thought my career in the world was coming quickly to a close. I was completely paralysed, and a cold perspiration was pouring in streams over my face and body. Recollecting I had got a mixture of laudanum and other strong aromatic tinctures, had it sought for and took a strong dose. After suffering an hour the extremes of torture, I began to feel the good effects of the medicine, and obtained a little relief from the pain ceasing for a few seconds; but still very bad. In a short time afterwards I was able to bear being lifted into the saddle; again my sufferings commenced, for every false step the horse made sent the pain through my body like a knife, and almost brought me to the ground. Being determined to reach the Mussel Camp to-night, and get quit of the Roper River, which has been so unfortunate to me in drowning two of my best horses, I kept my saddle until I reached it—which was not till near five o'clock. Such a day of torture I never experienced before. On reaching our tracks, about four miles from the Mussel Camp, another of the horses knocked up, and we could not get him a step further. I expected to have lost him long before this; he is one of those that failed on my last journey, and was sent back from Mount Margaret. Light winds from east.

Friday, 15th August, Mussel Camp. I have passed a miserable night, and feel but little better this morning, and as the horses require rest, I shall remain here to-day. Shortly after sunrise, three natives came close to the camp; Mr. Kekwick went up to them. Two were of the number of those who visited us the first time at the large reedy swamp. They were very quiet, and seemed very friendly; they had come to have a look at us, and satisfy their curiosity. I feel a little easier to-night. Light wind, variable.

Saturday, 16th August, Mussel Camp. Started at nine o'clock. Another of my horses very ill; I think that many of them must have eaten some poisonous plant on the Roper and its tributaries; I never saw horses fall away so rapidly before. The worst are those that have been in good condition throughout the journey, and the work they have been doing since I commenced my return journey any horses ought to have done with ease. I have never travelled more than eight hours a day, and frequently not more than six hours. In a day or two they fall away to perfect skeletons, are quite stupid, and hardly able to walk. I am glad that I am now quit of the Roper, and hope that I shall have no more of them taken ill. If I can only get the weak ones beyond Newcastle Water, where I expect to get some new grass for them (from the June and July rains), they would soon recover. My old horses are all looking well, although they have had to carry the heaviest loads throughout the journey. I should have been in a sad way without them—they are my mainstay. Arrived at the Rock Camp, River Strangways, at two o'clock without having to leave any more. I feel a little better to-day, but the motion of the horse has been very severe throughout the journey. The water at this camp is drying up very rapidly: it is reduced three feet in depth since we left, and I am very much afraid it will be all gone in Purdie Ponds—if such is the case, I shall lose all the weak horses. Wind in strong puffs, variable.

Sunday, 17th August, Rock Camp. Resting horses. Winds light and variable.

Monday, 18th August, Rock Camp. Three of the best horses are missing this morning—they are the three leading horses—while feeding; and I have never known them to be away from the others before. The three horse-keepers have returned at half-past ten, and can see nothing of them; the ground is so hard that their tracks leave but little impression, so that they might have passed them unseen. Mounted Thring and King on fresh horses to round the feeding-tracks again, and at half-past twelve they returned with them. They happened to come upon their tracks on a small piece of sandy ground on the opposite side of the creek; they traced them to a large permanent water lagoon, deep and broad, with water-lilies growing round it, and a number of ducks upon it; it is about three quarters of a mile west-south-west from this camp. Not seeing them there they followed their tracks for another mile, and there found them, at which I was very glad, for they are three of my very best horses, on which I am placing my dependence for carrying me back. I felt very uneasy at their being away, thinking that the natives might have cut them off during night. Saddled and proceeded to my first camp, north of the Rocky Gorge, but was disappointed to find all the water gone, which I did not expect. Proceeded a mile further, and found as much as will do for a drink for the horses to-night and to-morrow morning. Camped. Light winds, variable.

Tuesday, 19th August, First Camp North of Rocky Gorge. Started at eight o'clock, proceeding to the Rocky Gorge, and camped. This water has shrunk considerably since we left it, and I have now little hopes of there being any water in Purdie Ponds. If there is not I shall require to push through to Daly Waters. Light winds, south-east.

Wednesday, 20th August, Rocky Gorge, River Strangways. If there is no water in Purdie Ponds, I have six horses that will not be able to go through to Daly Waters; they must be two nights without it, and that they will not be able to stand. I have therefore determined to send Thring and King to Purdie Ponds to-morrow, to see if there is any water, and also to examine another place that I observed in coming through, where I think there may be water. If they find none at either of these places, I shall be compelled to leave the six weak horses at the camp, where there is and will be plenty of food and water for them. To attempt taking them through, and be compelled to leave them behind where there will be no chance of their getting a drop of water, would, I consider, be a great cruelty; here they are safe, and there is a chance of their being picked up by the next party. If Thring succeeds in getting water, I shall still endeavour to take them on. I am yet suffering very much from scurvy; my teeth and gums are so bad that it causes me excessive pain to eat anything, and what I do eat I am unable to masticate properly, which causes me to feel very ill indeed. Light winds, south-east.

Thursday, 21st August, Rocky Gorge, River Strangways. At 7.30 despatched Thring and King to see if there is any water in the Ponds. Resting horses, repairing saddle-bags, etc. Day hot, night and morning cool; wind, south-east. My sight has been very much impaired during the last month; after sundown, I am in total darkness. Even though the moon is full, and shining bright and clear to the others, to me it is darkness; I can see her dimly, but she gives me no more light than if she had been painted on a piece of canvas. I am now quite incapable of taking observations at night, and I am most thankful this did not happen before I was enabled to reach the ocean, as the most of my observations are taken at night. After the equinox the sun is too high to be measured by the sextant in the artificial horizon.

Friday, 22nd August, Rocky Gorge, River Strangways. Day exceedingly hot. Wind still from south-east, sometimes blowing in strong puffs. A little after two o'clock Thring and King returned with the good news that there is still water in Purdie Ponds; there is as much as will do for us until Monday morning. I am very glad of it, for it will enable me to get the weak horses through to Newcastle Water. After that I hope they will soon recover, for I expect that rain has fallen to the southward of that, and trust I shall get some fresh feed for them, which they require very much. I still feel very unwell to-day.

Saturday, 23rd August, Rocky Gorge, River Strangways. Started at half-past seven, and at four o'clock arrived at the Ponds. The day has been extremely hot, but about noon some heavy clouds came up from the east and south-east, which made it a little cooler, and enabled me to get all the weak horses through; one of them showed symptoms of giving in before we reached the Ponds, but we got him in all right. I shall remain here until Monday morning, when I shall have again another long journey without water (thirty-five miles) to Daly Waters. At sundown the clouds all cleared away, without giving us any rain. Wind, south-east. This day's journey has completely knocked me up. At one time I thought I should never have been able to reach this water. I had no idea I was in such a weak state, and am very doubtful of my being able to stand the journey back to Adelaide; whatever may occur I must submit to the will of Divine Providence.

Sunday, 24th August, Purdie Ponds. Day hot. Wind light, from south-east. About noon a few clouds came up, but they all disappeared about sundown. Very little improvement in me to-day.

Monday, 25th August, Purdie Ponds. Started at seven o'clock on my former tracks towards Daly Waters. At seven miles south of the Blue-grass Swamp saw a heavy fog to the east, in the same place that I saw the black fog in coming up; it must be caused by a large body of water in that direction. The natives have been running our tracks, and have burnt the grass on both sides of it for some distance. There seem to be very few of them about this part of the country. At half-past four passed the large swamp that receives the surplus water of Daly Waters, with water still in it, but very much reduced. At a quarter past five o'clock arrived at Daly Waters; found them also very much reduced, but still an abundant supply. Got all the weak horses through, which is more than I expected. This long journey has again completely exhausted me, and I feel very ill. Wind, south-east, with a few clouds.

Tuesday, 26th August, Daly Waters. I feel a little better this morning, but still very weak and languid. I shall give the horses and myself a rest to-day, for I am quite unable to ride. Wind, south-east, with a few clouds from the same direction.

Wednesday, 27th August, Daly Waters. Last evening, about half-past seven, Thring observed a comet bearing about 20 degrees west of north, and about 15 degrees above the horizon; the tail is short and the nucleus large. I regret that I am unable to see it. I cannot now see a single star, everything at night is total darkness. I should like to take some observations of it, but I am quite debarred from doing so. Started at half-past seven and proceeded along the Daly Waters, in which we saw an abundant supply. On reaching McGorrerey Ponds, and finding plenty of water, camped. I feel a good deal better to-day, but the motion of travelling on horseback is still very severe. Although Daly Waters is much reduced, there is still enough to last six months longer, even should no rain fall. These ponds will also hold out about three months longer. Wind, strong from south-east, with a few clouds.

Thursday, 28th August, McGorrerey Ponds. Proceeded to King's Ponds and camped. Find that the natives have been running our tracks, and have burnt large patches of grass; at this camp they have burnt it round. The water here is nearly all dried up; a few days later and I should not have got a drop. There is enough to last me to-night and to-morrow morning. Strong wind from south-east. The natives have cut on one side of my initials, on a gum-tree by the water where we camp, a figure resembling (a stylised flying bird).

Friday, 29th August, King's Ponds. Started at quarter past seven; proceeded to Frew's Pond, but was disappointed to find it quite dry. Dug down two feet, but could find no water. Proceeded on a straight course for Newcastle Water. Crossed Sturt Plains, and after dark camped on them. I would have gone to Howell Ponds, but finding the others so nearly dry, I was doubtful of them. A little before sundown, after I had passed them some distance, I observed flocks of pigeons flying towards them, showing that there is water still there. It is too late for me to go there now, Newcastle Water being the nearest. Wind, south-east. I feel a little better than I did on the former long journey.

Saturday, 30th August, Sturt Plains. At dawn of day started, being still some eight miles from Newcastle Water. The horses look very wretched this morning, especially the weak ones. About half-past eight arrived there, and found an abundant supply of water, though much reduced. No rain seems to have fallen since we left this, upwards of four months ago. A short time before we arrived a number of natives were observed following at a distance behind the rear of the party. They followed us on to our old camp, when I sent Mr. Kekwick up to them to keep them amused until I had the horses unpacked and taken down to water. By giving them a handkerchief he obtained a stone tomahawk from them. They are a fine race of men, tall, stout, and muscular, but not very handsome in features. They were very quiet. By making signs they were made to understand they were not to come nearer to our camp than about one hundred and fifty yards. They remained until noon staring at us and our horses. Some who could not see us very well got into the gum-trees, and had a long look at us. They were seventeen in number; four of them were boys, one of them much lighter than the others, nearly a light yellow. At noon they all went off, after remaining for four hours. Once more have I returned, if I may so call it, into old country again, after an absence of four months and ten days, exploring a new and splendid country from this to the Indian ocean without receiving a single drop of rain, or without any hostilities from the natives. I have returned from the coast to this in one month and three days. The horses have been one night without water, but got it early next morning, between eight and nine o'clock, and they would not have been without it if I could have seen to have guided the party after sundown. After the rays of the sun have left the earth, all is total darkness to me, even if there is a moon; I was therefore compelled to camp until daylight. Had my horses been in anything like a fair condition to have done a day's journey, and my health permitting, I could have accomplished the journey from the coast to this in three weeks. Before sundown we were again visited by our black friends; this time two old men accompanied them, whom Mr. Kekwick recognised as among those who visited the Depot at Howell Ponds during my absence. They all came up this time painted in red and white, and after remaining a short time went quietly to their camp. Wind, south-east.

Sunday, 31st August, North Newcastle Water. The natives again visited us this morning, and after remaining some time went off quietly. Wind, south-east. Few clouds at sundown.

Monday, 1st September, North Newcastle Water. Whilst saddling the horses this morning the natives again came up, and were anxious to know if they might be permitted to visit the camp after we were gone; that of course I had no objection to. They have been very quiet and peaceable during our stay; but I suppose they observed that both night and day we were always prepared to resist any aggression on their part. Started at seven o'clock, and proceeded by the base of the Ashburton range to my former camp on the East Newcastle Water. Distance, twenty-five miles; course nearly south-east. Arrived at four o'clock and found the water much reduced, but still in great abundance. Not a drop of rain has fallen since we left. There are, apparently, two tribes of natives on this water, one inhabiting the north and the other the south; for, on those of the north visiting us, we could not recognise any of those we saw on the southern water. One of the natives was a very amusing little fellow, rather less than five feet high, having a very peculiar and comical countenance and antics that would have eclipsed Liston in his best days, and as supple in the movements of his joints as any clown on the stage. He imitated every movement we made, and burlesqued them to a very high degree, causing great laughter to his companions and us. He seems to be the buffoon of the tribe. The other natives delighted in making sport of him, by ridiculing the shortness of his stature and laughing at him behind his back. Wind, south-east.

Tuesday, 2nd September, East Newcastle Water. Proceeded to Lawson Creek, but found no water in the lower part. Went up into the gorge, and there found as much as will do; it also is nearly gone, but there are still a few feet of it. I had no idea that such a body of water could have evaporated so quickly, which now makes me very doubtful of the waters to the southward. Wind, south-east.

Wednesday, 3rd September, Lawson Creek. As I now do not expect to get water before I reach the Hunter or the Burke, a distance of upwards of forty miles, I shall give the horses one day's rest to enable them to do the journey. I expect to lose some of the weak ones; to delay longer is only making the risk the greater. This must be an uncommonly dry season; not a single drop of rain has fallen in this part of the country since we left it. Last year we had three days' rain about the middle of June, and I was in hopes there would be the same this year, but am very much disappointed. I shall lighten the horses as much as I can possibly do, by leaving the water-bags, which are nearly useless, blankets, rugs, and cloths, as well as any other articles that can be done without. Provisions I MUST carry. I sincerely hope the forthcoming equinox will give me some rain and enable me to return. I feel a little better, but very weak and feeble from the severe attack of scurvy. My mouth and gums are so sore that to eat any food gives me the greatest pain. I cannot chew it, and am obliged to swallow it as it is, which makes me very ill. I am the only one of the party that is at present troubled with it. Wind, east.

Thursday, 4th September, Lawson Creek. Started at 6.40, and proceeded to the Hawker, but found no water there; thence to Watson Creek, none there; thence to Powell, Gleeson, and a number of other creeks that had water in them last year, but there is not a drop. Continued on to the creek that I camped at coming up. Arrived at 6.45 p.m.; found that water also gone, although it was a large deep hole when we were here before. Camped. Weak horses nearly done up. About 8.30 p.m. sent Thring up the creek to see if he could find any water. In three hours he returned: he had followed it up into the rough rocky hills until he could get no further, without seeing a drop. Wind, east. A few clouds at sundown coming from the south and south-east.

Friday, 5th September, Branch Creek of Hunter. Had to watch the horses during the night to prevent them straying in search of water. Started at 5.40 a.m. for the Hunter; in an hour and three quarters found some water in its bed. Camped, and will give the horses the benefit of it to-day. Wind variable.

Saturday, 6th September, The Hunter. Proceeded to the Burke, and found an abundant supply of water in the large iron conglomerate water hole that I discovered last year; it is reduced about four feet, but is still deep, and will last yet a long time without rain. I should say it was permanent without a doubt. Camped. From here I shall require to send on in advance to see if there is water in the Tomkinson; if not, I shall require to rest the horses here for three or four days to enable them to do the journey to Attack Creek without it. If there is none in the Tomkinson, I do not expect to find any in the Morphett. Native smoke about. They have burnt a great portion of the grass about here. The day has been oppressively hot and close. Wind from the east-south-east, with heavy clouds from the south-east to the south-west at sundown.

Sunday, 7th September, The Burke. After sunrise the clouds all gone. At 6.30 despatched Thring and King to the Tomkinson to see if there is any water. The day again oppressively hot, with clouds from south and south-east. Wind variable.

Monday, 8th September, The Burke. The clouds continued to come up du-ring the night, but after sunrise they cleared off; still no rain. Between one and two p.m. Thring and King returned with the disheartening tidings that there was no water in or about the Tomkinson. I shall give the horses two more days' rest, and push through to Attack Creek, where I am almost sure of there being water. The wind variable, sometimes north, east, and west. The clouds are broken up, and are nearly all gone, without leaving rain.

Tuesday, 9th September, The Burke. Resting horses, mending saddle-bags, etc. Wind, north and variable, with a few clouds from the west and south-west.

Wednesday, 10th September, The Burke. Thring on his return last Monday saw some water about four miles higher up this creek, nearly on our course for the Tomkinson; to that I shall go to-day, and make a start for Attack Creek to-morrow morning. Every mile now gained is of the utmost importance to me. Started early, to get there in the cool of the morning. In an hour and a half arrived at the water and camped. It is situated at the foot of some ironstone conglomerate rock, and will last a week or two longer. It has a number of small fish in it. The soil on its banks is light and a little sandy, with spinifex and grass mixed through it. Wind, north and north-west; the clouds have all disappeared. This morning I again feel very ill. I am very doubtful of my being able to reach the settled districts. Should anything happen to me, I keep everything ready for the worst. My plan is finished, and my journal brought up every night, so that no doubt whatever can be thrown upon what I have done. All the difficult country is now passed, and what remains is well known to those who have been out with me before; so that there is no danger of the party not finding their way back, should I be taken away. The only difficulty they will have to encounter is the scarcity of water, caused by the extreme dryness of the season.

Thursday, 11th September, The Upper Burke. Started at 6.40; crossed the Tomkinson and small grassy plains; ascended the north spur of the Whittington range. After sundown, it becoming quite dark to me, so that I could not see the horse's head before me, I was compelled to halt on the top of the range, four miles from my former camp on the Morphett. Day excessively hot; myself and horses have felt it very much. Wind variable, from the north and north-east.

Friday, 12th September, Top of Whittington Range. At break of day started over the range to my former camp, but found all the water gone. Proceeded down the Morphett, and at four miles found a little in the sandy bottom of what had once been a large hole. There is as much as will do for me until to-morrow by digging. All the clouds gone; not the slightest appearance of rain. The country on fire all round us. Wind, north-west and variable. Day exceedingly hot.

Saturday, 13th September, The Morphett. Started at 7.20, crossed the other spur of Whittington range, and at 11.20 arrived at Attack Creek. There is still an abundant supply of water, although much reduced—much lower than I have ever seen it. In about an hour and a half after camping, some native women came to the lower end of the hole where Billiatt was getting some water. The moment they saw him they went off at full speed. In a short time afterwards one man made his appearance and came marching up towards us. Sent Mr. Kekwick to meet him. As he approached him the black became stationary, and moving back a little, beckoned to some others to come up. Mr. Kekwick observed five or six others down at the lower end of the water hole, one of whom came up. I then sent Frew to Mr. Kekwick. They approached very cautiously, but as soon as they caught sight of Mr. Kekwick's gun, he could not get near them. On laying it down he got a little nearer; they shrank back when he attempted to touch them. Taking out a small strip of white calico which he had in his pocket, he tore it into two and held it out to them. They wished to possess it, but did not fancy coming too close to him for it. He made a sign that he wished to tie it round their wrists; they gradually approached nearer, holding out their arms at full length, and so frightened were they to come close, that he had to reach out his full length to tie them on; after which they gained a little more confidence, pointed towards the gun, imitated the report with their mouth, and held up three fingers, signifying that they recollected my first visit and number, which they do not seem to have forgotten, and seem to dread the appearance of a gun. The first one that came up had a very long spear, with a flat, sharp, and barbed point. They were two elderly stout men, one very much diseased and lame. They remained a long time looking at us. None of the others came up. In a little more than three hours they went off and we saw no more of them during the evening. Wind, south-west, with heavy clouds from the same direction and from the south.

Sunday, 14th September, Attack Creek. During the night the sky frequently became overcast with heavy clouds, which seemed to indicate rain, but none fell. About eight o'clock the wind changed to north-east, bringing up very heavy clouds, which led me to expect rain, but I was much disappointed, for at half-past twelve they all broke up and went off. This morning, at sunrise, I despatched Thring and Nash to see if there is water in Hayward, Phillip, Bishop, Tennant, or Goodiar Creeks. If there is none I shall require to rest the horses for three days, and then push on for the Bonney. It is a very long distance, and only the very best of them will be able to do it. I feel a little better this morning, but still very weak. The pains are increasing in my limbs, and my mouth is so bad I can eat nothing but a little boiled flour. How I am to get over such long pushes I do not know. I must trust entirely to Divine Providence. The natives have not visited us this morning. A little before four o'clock p.m. Nash returned. Thring had sent him back to report that there was water, by digging in the sand, at Hayward Creek, while he goes on to see if there is any other creek. Wind variable, with heavy clouds at sundown.

Monday, 15th September, Attack Creek. Started at 8.40. On crossing the creek, one of the weak horses, which had eaten some poison about the Roper, and which has been getting weaker every day, in attempting to get up the bank, which was not steep, fell and rolled back into the creek. There he had to be some time before he was able to get up. I saw that it was useless taking him any further, therefore left him where he will get plenty of feed and water. Proceeded to the Hayward, where I met Thring. There is some soft mud in Phillip Creek, but none in Bishop Creek. Camped, and cleared out a place for the horses to drink at. A number of natives have been camped on the opposite side of the creek, where they have left their spears, dishes, etc. Thring had arrived here some time before. About twenty of them coming closer to him than was safe, he mounted his horse and chased them to the hills, where they are now seated watching us. Some of them are approaching nearer. Mr. Kekwick could not get them to come near him until one of the old men who visited us at Attack Creek arrived and came up to him, which gave the others confidence. A number of them then came forward—tall, stout, well-made fellows, armed with long heavy spears, having bamboo at one end. One of them had also part of a large sea-shell, but it is so broken and ground down for a scoop that I cannot say of what description it is. The bamboo and the sea-shell show that this tribe has communicated with the sea-coast. They remained until sundown, and then did not seem inclined to go away, but prepared sleeping-places for the night—a proof that this is the only water near. There are upwards of thirty men, besides women and children. Wind, south-east. Clouds all gone.

Tuesday, 16th September, Hayward Creek. The natives showed themselves again at daybreak, but kept on the opposite bank of the creek, having a long look at us, and calling out something at the top of their voices which we could not understand. Watered our horses, saddled, and moved on amidst a succession of yells and screeches from old and young. Proceeded across Short ranges, and Phillip, and Bishop Creeks. Looked into every place I could think of, but could not find a drop. Moved on to Tennant Creek. Found that dry. Tried digging in the sand, without effect. Pushed on to the large rocky water hole in Goodiar Creek, where I made almost sure that I should find some. On arriving, was sadly disappointed to find that dry also. Proceeded across the McDouall range, and camped on a grassy plain between it and Mount Samuel. The natives followed us nearly to Tennant Creek, raising a line of smoke all the way. They kept about a mile to the east of us, on some rising ground that runs nearly parallel with my tracks. We have had to lighten a heavy cart-horse named Charley. When any hardship is to be undergone, he is always the first to show symptoms of giving in. He had only thirty pounds to carry to-day, and he looks ten times worse than those that are carrying one hundred and twenty. I shall require to let him go without anything to-morrow. We shall have to watch the horses during the night to prevent them from straying in search of water. Wind, south-east.

Wednesday, 17th September, McDouall Range. Started at daybreak for the Murchison range. About eleven o'clock the cart-horse gave in, and would not move a step further. I am obliged to leave him; he has been carrying nothing all the morning. Two others that have been very weak from eating some poisonous plant will, I fear, give in before the end of the day. A little after four o'clock I found I must leave them. At dark arrived at the Baker, which I found dry. Camped. This is another night the horses will be without water, and will require to be watched. A quantity of native smoke about. There must be permanent water about this range somewhere, but I have no time to look for it now. Tomorrow I must push on for the Bonney. If that fails me I shall be in a sad predicament, but I trust that the Almighty will still continue to show me the same great kindness that he has done throughout my different journeys. There is very little improvement in my health. I feel very much being in the saddle so long. Twelve hours is almost too much for my weak state, but I must endure it. Wind, south-east.

Thursday, 18th September, Murchison Range. Proceeded at daydawn to the Gilbert. Found it dry. Went on towards the Bonney; crossed the McLaren—no water. At two o'clock arrived at the Bonney, and am most thankful to Divine Providence that there is still a good supply of water that will last some time longer. My horses look very bad indeed. I expected to have lost more of them. They have got over this first difficulty very well. Towards the end of the journey my old horse took the lead. Day hot. Wind, south-east.

Friday, 19th September, The Bonney. From this camp Mount Fisher bears 119 degrees 30 minutes. I must remain here some time to get my horses round again. A large number of them are looking very ill this morning. Being so long without water and the dry state in which the grass is, has reduced them more than three months' hard work would have done. If the grass had any nourishment in it, two or three days would have done for them. Not a drop of rain seems to have fallen here for the last twelve months; everything is dry and parched up. This appears to be the driest part of the year. I am very doubtful of the water in the Stirling, the next place that I was depending upon. From the very reduced state in which this is, I have very little hope of there being any there. The day has been again oppressively hot. I trust we shall soon have rain. Wind variable. Native smoke about.

Saturday, 20th September, The Bonney. Resting horses. I feel very ill again; being so long in the saddle is very severe upon me. Day again very hot. Wind from the west, with a few clouds, which I trust will bring up rain.

Sunday, 21st September, The Bonney. Resting horses. Day very hot. Wind, west; clouds broken up.

Monday, 22nd September, The Bonney. This morning sent Thring up the creek to see if there is any larger water than this that can be depended on for some time to come. Very hot. Clouds all gone. Wind variable.

Tuesday, 23rd September, The Bonney. Recruiting horses, etc. About eleven o'clock Thring returned. He has been about twenty miles up the creek to where it became much narrower and was joined by a number of small ones coming from very rough and stony hills. Its general course is about east-south-east. At four miles from this he found a pool of water four feet deep, two hundred yards long, and thirty feet broad. There is a considerable quantity of water all the way up, but shallow, and none of the extent of the former one found. Should I be forced to retreat, that will be a safe place to fall back on until rain falls. Day again oppressively hot. Wind, east.

Wednesday, 24th September, The Bonney. Shortly after sunrise despatched Thring to see if there is any water in Thring Ponds, or any between them and this. I would have gone myself, but was quite unable to do so, being very little better. One of my good horses has met with an accident in feeding along the bank of the creek in places where it is very precipitous. A portion must have given way and thrown him into the creek, injuring him very much in the chest and other parts of the body. I am afraid he will not be able to travel with me, which will be a great loss, having so many weak ones already. Wind, south-east, with a few clouds.

Thursday, 25th September, The Bonney. Clouds all gone, no rain. Resting horses, etc. Day hot, morning and evening cool, with strong wind from east and south-east. I have been obliged to reduce the rations to five pounds of flour and one pound of dried meat per week for each man, which will leave me provisions at that rate until the end of January, in case I should be locked in with the dry state of the season. The flies at this place are a perfect torment. A little after three o'clock p.m. Thring returned. There was no water in the Barker, none in the Sutherland, and when he got to the ponds, found them quite dry also; he then returned two miles to where there was some good feed for the horse, and camped for the night without water, intending to return to this in the morning. In saddling he observed some crested pigeons fly past him to the south of east; he thought it would be as well to follow them some distance in that direction, as they might be going to water, as about that time in the morning is generally the time they fly towards it. After going a few miles he surprised fourteen natives at breakfast. As soon as they saw him they ran off at full speed. Observing some small wooden troughs with water in them, he collected it together and gave it to his horse. Examined the small creek for more, but could find none, and knowing the natives would not carry it very far, and that there must be some no great way off, went on a little further and found a fine pool of water with ducks on it, but shallow. He then returned. This will bring the Stirling within visiting distance. I shall remove the party down to the pool to-morrow. Strong wind, still from the south-east.

Friday, 26th September, The Bonney. In consequence of the horses separating during the night, I did not get a start before nine o'clock; followed my former tracks across Younghusband's range; thence on a bearing 25 degrees east of south; arrived at the pool of water at 5.15 p.m. Before reaching the water we crossed four red sand hills, with spinifex, running north-east and south-west, having broad valleys between, in which are growing melaleucas, gum-trees, and grass. After rain they retain water, but now are quite dry. This one that we are now camped at is much larger, having the same description of timber, with polyganum growing round about it; the water is shallow, and will not last long. There are a number of ducks, geese, and other water-fowl on it, but too shy to be approached. A quantity of native smoke about. I am very ill to-day; I am scarcely able to endure the motion of the horse thus far. The horse that injured himself so much knocked up about two miles from this water, but we were able to get him to it before sundown. I shall have to kill him and eat what is good of him; it is useless to attempt taking him on a long journey without water—he would never be able to do it; and, as we are now upon half rations of meat, I shall kill and eat him, so that he will not be lost altogether. Wind variable. Day exceedingly hot.

Saturday, 27th September, Pool of Water. Before attempting to see if there is water in the Stirling, I have sent Thring on course 20 degrees west of south, to see if there is any creek or water between two stony ranges of hills that lie east of Mount Morphett. At sundown he has not returned. Wind, west. Day very hot. After sundown we shot the black horse that was not able to travel; shall cut him up and dry him to-morrow; there are some parts very much injured by bruises he got in his tumble. He also showed evidence of having drunk too much water at the Bonney. Being so exhausted and knocked up on my arrival there, I was unable to go and see they did not drink too much, and had to leave it to others. In all my journeys (and my horses have been much longer time without water than this), this is the first horse that has injured himself in that way.

Sunday, 28th September, Pool of Water. About eight o'clock, Thring returned, being out all night without food or blankets; he had found a large gum creek in the place I had sent him to, with water in it, by sinking in its sandy bed. I shall move the party to it to-morrow morning. Wind variable, mostly from the north and north-east. Day very hot. Latitude, 20 degrees 47 minutes 59 seconds.

Monday, 29th September, Pool of Water. Started at seven o'clock, course 20 degrees west of south. For the first five miles we passed over a fine country, soil red, and in places a little sandy, with gums, grass, a little scrub, and in places a little spinifex. After this it became covered with spinifex until within five miles of the creek, where the mulga commenced, with plenty of grass, which continued to its banks, where we arrived after twenty-six miles, and had to dig six feet in the sand before we could get sufficient water for the horses; by ten o'clock p.m. however we got them all watered. I am inclined to believe this is a continuation of the Taylor and other creeks coming from Forster range more to the eastward. After my arrival here, I sent Thring up the creek to see if he could find any surface water. After dark he returned and informed me that he had followed it into the Crawford range, and that it came through the range; if such is the case, there is no doubt of it being the Taylor with the creeks from Forster range. There is no surface water, but apparently plenty by digging in the bed of the creek, judging from the number of native wells that he saw with water in them. At one of the wells he saw several natives, who ran off on his approach. Latitude, 21 degrees 9 minutes 30 seconds. Wind variable. Day oppressively hot.

Tuesday, 30th September, The Taylor. As soon as I could get the horses, I despatched Thring to the Stirling to see if there is water. I have sent King on with him, with a pack-horse carrying two bags of water for the horse that carries him to the Stirling. They are to follow this creek up, and, if it is the Taylor, they are to stop to-night at our last camp on it. Next morning King is to return to me, whilst Thring goes on to examine the Stirling. Still all hands engaged in sinking for water for the horses. Wind from the south-east, with heavy clouds from the north-west and south-west, showing every indication of rain, which I sincerely hope will fall before morning.

Wednesday, 1st October, The Taylor. About nine o'clock last night there were a few drops of rain, and almost immediately afterwards the clouds broke up and went off to the south-east, to our very great disappointment. This morning there are still a few light ones about, but very high, and no more appearance of rain. Wind still strong and blowing from the same quarter. We have now got enough water for the horses, and can water them all in about two hours. No natives have shown themselves since we have been here, although their smoke was quite close to us yesterday. In the afternoon Thring and King returned, having found a fine pool of water about fifteen miles up the creek, four feet deep, which will serve us for a short time. Sundown: still blowing strong from the south-east; clouds all gone.

Thursday, 2nd October, The Taylor. Started at five minutes to eight, course 3 degrees west of south; at five miles got through the gap in the range, then changed to 20 degrees west of south, and after ten miles on that course reached the water hole. The journey to-day has been over first-rate travelling-ground, avoiding crossing the range at Mount Morphett. The country in many places along the creek has large grassy plains with mulga, gum-trees, and scrub, not too thick to get easily through. Native smoke under the hills to the east. Strong cool wind blowing all day from the south-east. A little before sundown three natives came within three hundred yards of the camp, setting fire to the grass as they came along. We could not get them to come any nearer. Latitude 21 degrees 22 minutes 12 seconds.

Friday, 3rd October, Surface Water, The Taylor. Shortly after sunrise despatched Thring and King in search of water higher up the creek. I feel so weak and ill that I am now scarcely able to move about the camp. This morning Frew, in searching for some of the horses, came upon the three natives we saw last night; the moment they saw him off they went at full speed, and he saw no more of them. They must have been sneaking about and watching our camp during the night. Wind still blowing strong south-east.

Saturday, 4th October, Surface Water, The Taylor. It still continues to blow very strong from the same quarter. A little before two p.m. King returned. They had followed up this creek for a considerable distance beyond where the Taylor joined it, and as it came more from the south-east than I had expected, and approached near to Forster range, Thring changed his course to the Stirling, according to my instructions. A little before sundown they arrived at my former camp on the Stirling; found the water hole quite dry; dug down, but could find no moisture. They had not seen a drop of water during the whole day. In the morning King returned to me, giving Thring's horse the water that he had carried with him to enable him to search the Stirling down and round about the adjoining country. Still blowing strong from the same direction. No clouds visible.

Sunday, 5th October, Surface Water, The Taylor. Still blowing strong and cool from the same quarter. About half-past one o'clock Thring returned; he could find no surface water, neither any to be had by digging. He then crossed over to the foot of the Hanson, where he saw some native smoke; on his arriving at it he surprised a native busily engaged in sinking for water, about six feet deep, in the bed of the creek, who, as soon as he saw him, jumped out of the well and ran off as fast as he could. He then tried to see what quantity of water was in the bottom of the well, but having nothing but a quart pot to clear it out with, he was unable to form a correct opinion, but from all appearances he thinks there will be sufficient for our use for some time, only it will require an immense deal of labour and time to remove the great body of sand to enable the horses to get down to it. To-morrow I shall send Thring with McGorrerey and Nash, with four horses and sufficient provisions for a fortnight. On their arrival at the native well on the Hanson they will be able easily to get water enough for their four horses that night. McGorrerey and Nash will then clear out the well and see what quantity there is in it, while Thring will proceed up the Hanson to see if there is water in the springs that I discovered on my first journey through the centre. If they are dry he will proceed with the examination of the Hanson to above where we crossed it; he will then return to the diggers; by that time they will be able to judge if there is sufficient water for the whole party. If there is sufficient he will leave them to dig, and come on to me; if not, and there is no more water higher up, he will bring them on with him, and I shall require to try a course more to the south-east. In the afternoon the three natives again made their appearance, bawling out as they came near, but retreated as Mr. Kekwick went towards them to see what they wanted. Wind still south-east.

Monday, 6th October, Surface Water, The Taylor. Shortly after sunrise despatched Thring with McGorrerey and Nash to the Hanson. Day very hot. I am still very ill—no improvement whatever. Wind strong from the south-east.

Tuesday, 7th October, The Taylor. What a miserable life mine is now! I get no rest night nor day from this terrible gnawing pain; the nights are too long, and the days are too long, and I am so weak that I am hardly able to move about the camp. I am truly wretched. When will this cease? Wind, south-east.

Wednesday, 8th October, The Taylor. Wind still blowing from the south-east; no appearance of rain.

Thursday, 9th October, The Taylor. Last night, about sundown, a native woman and youngster came to the waterhole, rushed down, had a drink, and were running off again, when I cooed and made signs of friendship; in a few seconds the woman gained confidence, and, not seeing any of us approach, went down to the hole again, and fetched up a large troughful of water. Mr. Kekwick tried to induce her to stop, in order to gain some information from her, but it was of no use; the faster he walked the faster she did the same, chatting all the time, pointing to the south; so he left her to walk at her leisure. They do not seem to be at all frightened of us; but we cannot get any of them to come near, although we have tried every time they have come. The day again oppressively hot. I still feel very ill. Wind from south-east. Nothing particular has occurred during the day. This is dreadful work to be detained here so long. I am afraid soon I shall not be able to sit in the saddle, and then what must I do? I feel myself getting weaker and weaker every day. I hope the Almighty will have compassion on me, and soon send me some relief. He is the only one that can do it—my only friend.

Friday, 10th October, The Taylor. Last night, a little before sundown, until after dark, we were amused by a farce enacted by the natives, apparently to keep us quiet and render us powerless, while they approached the water hole and got what water they required. They commenced at some distance off, raising a heavy black smoke, (by setting fire to the spinifex), and calling out most lustily at the top of their voices. As the sun got lower I had the party prepared for an attack; on they came, the fire rolling before them. We could now occasionally see them; one was an old man with a very powerful voice, who seemed to be speaking some incantations, with the most dreadful howl I ever heard in my life, resembling a man suffering the extremes of torture; he was assisted in his horrid yell by some women. As the evening got darker and they were within one hundred and fifty yards of us, and nearly opposite our camp, the scene was very pretty—in fact grand. In the foreground was our camp equipment with the party armed, ready to repel an attack. On the opposite side of the creek was a long line of flames, some mounting high in the air, others kept at a low flickering light. In the midst of the flames the natives appeared to be moving about, performing all sorts of antics; behind them came the old man with his women. At every high flame he seemed to be performing some mysterious spell, still yelling in the former horrid tone, turning and twisting his body and legs and arms into all sorts of shapes. They appeared like so many demons, dancing, sporting, and enjoying themselves in the midst of flames. At last they and their fire reached the water hole after continuing this horrid noise for nearly two hours without intermission; as soon as they came in sight of the water, those in front rushed down into it, satisfied themselves, filled their troughs and bags, except the old man, who kept up his howl until he was stopped by a drink of water. This seemed to satisfy them, for they went off from us about three quarters of a mile and camped, I suppose thinking they had done great things in keeping us so quiet. Shortly after this something started the horses which made them all rush together. I kept the party under arms till nine o'clock p.m. and then, everything appearing to be quiet, I sent them all to bed except the one on guard. The natives were quiet during the night. This morning the blacks watched us collecting the horses and watering them; they then very quietly slipped down to the water, filled their troughs, etc., and in about half an hour went off and left us in possession of the water. They must certainly think we are very much to be frightened by fire and a great noise, or they would never have come in the way they did last night; they would have been rather surprised had they attacked us, to find that we could both speak and injure by fire. I am better pleased that they went away quietly; it is far from my wish to injure one of them if they will let me pass peaceably through. About two o'clock p.m. Thring returned; he had examined up the Hanson, but could not find a drop of water, either on the surface or by digging. On his return to where he had left the two men to dig, he found there would not be enough water for the whole party, as it came in so slowly; it is on the top of hard burnt sandstone; he therefore came on to inform me of the result, leaving the two men still there. They had been visited by the natives, who appeared to be inclined to be rather unfriendly at first, but on showing them they were welcome to use the water as well as the party, they became friendly, and came over night and morning to fill their troughs and bags. They pointed to the south-south-east, and made signs, by digging with a scoop, that there was water in that direction, but how far he could not make out. This is a sad disappointment to me. I dare not move the party on to where they are digging, there is too little water. To-morrow morning I must send Thring and King on to Anna Reservoir to see if there is any there; if that is dry I shall be locked in until rain falls, and that may not be before the equinox, in March, a very dismal prospect to look forward to. I shall start Thring and King to-morrow morning; they will reach where the diggers are to-morrow night, and will rest their horses there on Sunday. On Monday morning start for Anna Reservoir—King, with a pack-horse carrying water, will go on one day with Thring. The water to be given to Thring's horse night and morning. Thring will proceed to the Reservoir. King will return to the diggers with the empty bags, have them filled, and next morning start with fresh horses and the water to meet Thring on his return in case the Reservoir is dry; this is the only way that I see it can be done. I now begin to feel the want of my health dreadfully. Although Thring is a good bushman and does his best, poor fellow, yet he wants experience and maturer judgment; he has had hard work of it lately, but he is always ready to start again at any moment that I wish. Wind, south-east. A few light clouds about.

Saturday, 11th October, The Taylor. The natives camped last night at their former place; they seem to have given up all their buffoonery. I suppose they see it has no effect upon us. Shortly after sunrise despatched Thring and King. The day again oppressively hot, with a few light clouds from the south. Wind, south-east.

Sunday, 12th October, The Taylor. The natives again encamped in their former place last night. They came in late and started early this morning. They always seem to go off to the westward. Day again oppressively hot. Wind, south-east.

Monday, 13th October, The Taylor. Can see nothing of the natives this morning; they must have gone off during the early part of last night. We tried to get near to them yesterday afternoon by making friendly signs, etc., but the moment we approached them they ran off, and everything we can think of will not induce them to come near us or allow us to get near them; they are the most timid race I have ever met with, which I think is a very bad feature—such are often very treacherous. I should have a much higher opinion of them if they would come boldly forward and see if we were friends or foes. Wind from the north; heavy clouds from south and south-west.

Tuesday, 14th October, The Taylor. During the night there was a deal of lightning in the south and south-west; clouds about, but high and much broken. About two o'clock p.m. they collected together and gave a very promising appearance of a heavy fall of rain; they seemed to be coming up all round, but the heaviest from the south and south-west. At four o'clock p.m. it began to lighten and thunder, accompanied by a shower which did not last above a few minutes. Sundown: still the same promising dark, heavy, gloomy appearance. Wind, south-east.

Wednesday, 15th October, The Taylor. During the night we had a terrific storm of lightning and thunder, which continued throughout the night and morning at intervals, but little rain has fallen, it has merely damped the surface of the ground. At twelve o'clock to-day it has nearly cleared all away, leaving only a few light clouds, which is another very great disappointment. At sundown it again became overcast. Wind variable.

Thursday, 16th October, The Taylor. Still cloudy during the night and morning, but no rain has fallen; the heavy clouds pass south of us to the eastward. I am now nearly helpless; my legs are unable to support the weight of my body, and, when I do walk a little way, I am obliged to have the assistance of one of the party, and the pains caused by walking are most excruciating. I get little sleep night or day. I must endure my sufferings with patience, and submit to the will of the Almighty, who, I trust, will soon send me some relief. Wind variable.

Friday, 17th October, The Taylor. Still heavy clouds during the night and day, but no rain will fall. Still very ill. About three o'clock p.m. Thring returned; he has been to Anna Reservoir and found plenty of water, and a number of natives camped at it, who ran off the moment they saw him; he watered his horse and recrossed the range, not thinking it prudent to camp where there were so many of them. He has met with the same description of weather that we have had up here, thunder and lightning with a heavy, cloudy sky, but nothing but a light shower or two of rain. I shall move the party on to the Hanson to-morrow, and, if I am able to ride, shall push on to-morrow. Wind variable; sky still overcast.

Saturday, 18th October, The Taylor. Started at twenty minutes to eight for the Hanson; sky still overcast with heavy clouds. We had two light showers during the journey. I am now so helpless that I have to be lifted into the saddle. I endured the pain of riding for the first seventeen miles far better than I expected; after that it became almost unbearable, and camped at twenty-four miles, having found as much water in the rocks of the Stirling as will do for the horses to-night and to-morrow morning, left from a shower of rain, for which I am very thankful. I could not have gone on more than three miles. I was then enduring the greatest pain and agony that it is possible for a man to suffer. On being lifted from the horse, all power was gone out of my legs, and when I attempted to put the weight of my body on them the pain was most excruciating. Still heavy clouds about, indicating rain. Wind, south-east.

Sunday, 19th October, The Stirling. I had a few hours' sound sleep last night, which I find has done me a deal of good. During the early part of the night two heavy showers of rain fell, and left plenty of water for the horses; got them up, and saddled and proceeded to the Hanson. At eight miles arrived there, finding the party all well; they had not been troubled with the natives except by their coming down to the water during the night time, and bringing into the hole a quantity of sand with them. I had to be taken from horseback nearly in the same state as yesterday. Wind, south-east.

Monday, 20th October, The Hanson. Started early; passed the Centre; crossed the upper part of the Hanson, and at five miles beyond it camped. Distance, thirty-five miles. Not a drop of rain seems to have fallen for a long time. During the whole day's journey this has been a terrible day of agony for me; nine hours and a half in the saddle. I had to be taken from my horse in the same helpless state as before. My feet and legs are now very much swollen; round the ankles they are quite black, and the pain is dreadful. I still continue to take the bicarb of potash, but it has little or no effect. Wind variable.

Tuesday, 21st October, South of the Centre. About sunrise started for Anna Reservoir, and at 5.30 p.m. arrived there, completely exhausted. Wind, variable. Heavy clouds from the south-east.