he hope of finding water before we rose, but was
disappointed; the horses did not, however, appear to have suffered from
the want of it during the night. On starting I requested Mr. Browne to
make a circuit to the N.E. for the same purpose, as we had observed many
birds fly past us in that direction; and I sent Flood to the westward,
but both returned unsuccessful. Nevertheless, although we could not find
any water, the country improved.

The soil was still clay and sand, but we crossed some very fine flats,
and only wanted water to enjoy comparative luxury. Both the flats and the
ridges were well clothed with grass, and the former had box-trees and
hakeas scattered over them; but these favourable indications soon ceased.
The pine ridges closed upon each other once more, and the flats became
covered with salsolaceous plants. The day was exceedingly hot, and still
more oppressive in the brushes, so that the horses began to flag. At 2
p.m. no favourable change had taken place. Our view was limited to the
succeeding sand hill; nor, by ascending the highest trees, could we see
any elevated land at that hour; therefore I stopped, as the cart got on
so slowly, and as the horses would now, under any circumstances, be three
days without water, I determined on retracing my steps to the creek in
which we had dug the well. I directed Mr. Browne, with Flood, however, to
push on, till sunset, in the hope that he might see a change. At sunset I
commenced my retreat, feeling satisfied that I had no hope of success in
finding water so far from the hills. Turning back at so late an hour in
the afternoon, it was past midnight when we reached the sand ridge from
which we had started in the morning; where we again stopped until dawn,
when proceeding onwards, and passing a shallow puddle of surface water,
that was so thick with mud and animalculae as to be unfit to drink, we
gained the creek at half-past 4 p.m. Mr. Browne and Flood joined us some
little time after sunset, having ridden about 18 miles beyond the point
at which we had parted, but had not noticed any change. The sandy ridges,
Mr. Browne informed me, continued as far as he went; and, to all
appearance, for miles beyond. The day we returned to the creek was one of
most overpowering heat, the thermometer at noon being 117 degrees in the
shade. I had promised to wait for Mr. Browne at the shallow puddle, but
the sun's rays fell with such intense effect on so exposed a spot that I
w