Last night was beautifully clear and calm, until midnight, when
a cold south wind set in, which made us all shiver with cold. I had not
felt it so much since the night of Mr. Gilbert's death, nor since we left
the upper Lynd and the table land of the Burdekin. The wind was equally
strong in the morning from the south-east, and veered in the course of
the day to the south and south-west.

We travelled about eight miles and a half W.N.W. to lat. 17 degrees 50
minutes 28 seconds, at first passing over a scrubby country, which
changed into box flats when we approached the waterless creek, at which
we encamped on the night of the 20th. To the westward of this creek, box
flats alternated with tea-tree thickets; and opened at last into a large
plain, which we crossed at its southern termination, where it was three
miles broad; it appeared boundless to the northward. Plains of the same
character had been dimly seen through the open forest to the northward,
for some time before we came to the one we crossed. This was not covered
with the stiff grass, nor the dry wind-grass of the plains north of the
Staaten; but it bore a fine crop of tender grasses, which rendered them
infinitely more valuable for the pasture of horses and cattle. At the
west side of the plain, we found a chain of fine long lagoons, surrounded
by Polygonum, and apparently well stocked with fish.

Charley and Brown caught an emu, with the assistance of the dog, which
became every day more valuable to us.

Since Mr. Gilbert's death, the arrangements of our camp have been
changed. I now select an entirely open space, sufficiently distant from
any scrub or thicket, even if we have to go a considerable distance for
water. Our pack-saddles are piled in two parallel lines close together,
facing that side from which a covered attack of the natives might be
expected. We sleep behind this kind of bulwark, which of itself would
have been a sufficient barrier against the spears of the natives. Tired
as we generally are, we retire early to our couch; Charley usually takes
the first watch, from half-past six to nine o'clock; Brown, Calvert, and
Phillips follow in rotation; whilst I take that portion of the night most
favourable for taking the altitude. John Murphy has his watch from five
to six. We generally tethered three horses, and kept one bridled; and,
with these arrangements, we slept as securely and soundly as ever; for I
felt sure that we had nothing to fear, as lon