Bluff-faced hills.
The Anthony Range.
Cool nights.
Tent-shaped hills.
Fantastic mounds.
Romantic valley.
Picturesque scene.
A gum creek.
Beautiful country.
Gusts of fragrance.
New and independent hills.
Large creek.
Native well.
Jimmy's report.
The Krichauff.
Cold nights.
Shooting blacks.
Labor omnia vincit.
Thermometer 28 degrees.
Dense scrubs.
Small creek.
Native pheasant's nest.
Beautiful open ground.
Charming view.
Rocks piled on rocks.

On Monday, the 4th August, 1873, my new expedition, under very
favourable circumstances, started from Ross's Water-hole in the
Alberga. The country through which the Alberga here runs is mostly
open and stony, but good country for stock of all kinds. The road and
the telegraph line are here thirteen miles apart. At that distance up
the creek, nearly west, we reached it. The frame of an old building
was convenient for turning into a house, with a tarpaulin for a roof,
as there appeared a likelihood of more rain. Some water was got in a
clay-pan in the neighbourhood.

A misty and cloudy morning warned us to keep under canvas: rain fell
at intervals during the day, and at sundown heavy thunder and bright
lightning came from the north-west, with a closing good smart shower.
The next morning was fine and clear, though the night had been
extremely cold. The bed of this creek proved broad but ill-defined,
and cut up into numerous channels. Farther along the creek a more
scrubby region was found; the soil was soft after the rain, but no
water was seen lying about. The creek seemed to be getting smaller; I
did not like its appearance very much, so struck away north-west. The
country now was all thick mulga scrub and grassy sandhills; amongst
these we found a clay-pan with some water in it. At night we were
still in the scrub, without water, but we were not destined to leave
it without any, for at ten o'clock a thunderstorm from the north-west
came up, and before we could get half our things under canvas, we were
thoroughly drenched. Off our tarpaulins we obtained plenty of water
for breakfast; but the ground would not retain any. Sixteen miles
farther along we came down out of the sandhills on to a creek where we
found water, and camped, but the grass was very poor, dry, and
innutritious. More rain threatened, but the night was dry, and the
morning clear and beautiful. This creek was the Hamilton. Two of its
native lords visited the camp this morning, and did not appear at