route. Towards sunset came dinner, and soon after
nightfall all retired to their beds. "The two Blackfellows and myself
spread out each our own under the canopy of heaven, whilst Messrs
Roper, Calvert, Gilbert, Murphy, and Phillips, have their tents. Mr
Calvert entertains Roper with his conversation; John amuses Gilbert;
Brown tunes up his corrobori songs, in which Charley, until their late
quarrel, generally joined. Brown sings well, and his melodious
plaintive voice lulls me to sleep, when otherwise I am not disposed.
Mr Phillips is rather singular in his habits; he erects his tent
generally at a distance from the rest, under a shady tree, or in a
green bower of shrubs, where he makes himself as comfortable as the
place will allow, by spreading branches and grass under his couch, and
covering his tent with them, to keep it shady and cool, and even
planting lilies in blossom (crinum) before his tent, to enjoy their
sight during the short time of our stay." We would fain have heard
something more of this Phillips, whose love of solitude and flowers
contrast with his quality of a convict, and inspire interest and
curiosity. Whatever his crime, his companions apparently did not
repulse him, but he himself voluntarily avoided their society, perhaps
from a feeling of unworthiness and humiliation. Dr Leichhardt casually
mentions him here and there in his volume, and he seems to have
behaved steadily and well, for he was pardoned on returning to Sydney,
and received a portion of the thousand pounds appropriated from the
crown revenue to reward the adventurous party. Why he was originally
selected to form part of it, when numbers of young men of enterprising
spirit and untainted reputation were refused the privilege, the Doctor
does not think it necessary to inform us.

To men far removed from the pleasures and luxuries of civilisation,
isolated in a desert, and leading a life of unceasing hardship and
privation, small treats afford great enjoyment. The pleasures of the
palate, especially, acquire unusual importance, and the discovery of
some fragrant fruit or succulent vegetable, the addition to the daily
stew of a bird or beast unusually flavorous, causes amongst these
grown children as much jubilation as a giant cake amongst a horde of
holiday urchins. "I had naturally," says the Doctor, "a great
antipathy against comfort-hunting and gourmandising, particularly on
an expedition like ours.... This antipathy I expressed, oft