d water, which will last a month or six weeks, and an
immense number of birds. This is a camping-place of the natives, who seem
to have been here very lately. We watered the horses and proceeded
towards the range. At about two miles passed a low rugged ironstone
range, peculiar in having a large square mass of ironstone standing by
itself about the centre. I have named it Mount Sinclair, after James
Sinclair, of Port Lincoln. Passed through a thick scrub, among which we
saw a very handsome bush that was new to us, having a blue-green leaf ten
inches long by six inches broad. We looked for some seed, but could not
find any. At five miles crossed a grassy gum plain, where a creek empties
itself. The same scrub continues to the range, which we reached at twelve
miles from the water. It is not very high, but rough and steep, and we
had great difficulty in getting to the top, but after many twistings and
turnings and scramblings, we arrived there all right, and found it to be
table land. At fourteen miles camped without water. The range is composed
of ironstone, granite, quartz and red sandstone, running north of west
and south of east. I have named it Short Range, after the Right Reverend
the Lord Bishop of Adelaide.

Friday, 8th June, Short Range. Started at 8 o'clock on the same course,
315 degrees, to some very distant rising grounds. Short range seems to
run nearly parallel to our course, as also does another distant range to
the north, which I have named Sturt Range, after Captain Sturt. The table
land continued about two miles, and then there was a gradual descent to
the plains, and we entered a thick scrub with spinifex and gums. At
eighteen miles came upon a beautiful plain of grass, having large
gum-trees, and a new description of tree, the foliage of which is a
dark-green and rather round, and the bark rough and of a dark colour.
Here also was the cork-tree, and numerous other shrubs. This grassy plain
continued for thirty-one miles, until we camped, but the last part is not
so good. When I struck this plain, I was in great hopes of finding a
large creek of water, but have been disappointed; we have not crossed a
single water-course in thirty-one miles. Camped at sundown. No water.
Wind south-east.

Saturday, 9th June, Grassy Plain. There is some rising ground a few miles
further on, to which I shall go in search of a creek; I might be able to
see something from it. If I do not find water I shall have to retreat t