all barren valley between them and the ocean, of low,
sandy ground; the road ceased here at a deep rocky gorge of the cliffs,
where there was a breach leading down to the valley. There were several
deep holes among the rocks where water would be procurable after rains,
but they were now all dry. The state of mind in which we passed on may be
better imagined than described. We had now been four days without a drop
of water for our horses, and we had no longer any for ourselves, whilst
there appeared as little probability of our shortly procuring it as there
had been two days ago. A break, it is true, had occurred in the line of
the cliffs, but this appeared of a very temporary character, for we could
see beyond them the valley again abutting upon the ocean.

At dark we were fifteen miles from where we left the sheep, and were
again upon a native pathway, which we twice tried to follow down the
steep and rugged slopes of the table land into the valley below. We were
only, however, fagging our poor horses and bewildering ourselves to no
purpose, for we invariably lost all track at the bottom, and I at last
became convinced that it was useless to try and trace the natives'
roadway further, since it always appeared to stop at rocky holes where
there was no water now. Keeping, therefore, the high ground, we travelled
near the top of the cliffs, bounding the sandy valley, but here again a
new obstacle impeded our progress. The country, which had heretofore been
tolerably open was now become very scrubby, and we found it almost
impossible either to keep a straight course, or to make any progress
through it in the dark. Still we kept perseveringly onwards, leading our
horses and forcing our way through in the best way we could. It was,
however, all in vain; we made so little headway, and were so completely
exhausting the little strength we had left, that I felt compelled to
desist. The poor boy was quite worn out, and could scarcely move. I was
myself but little better, and we were both suffering from a parching
thirst; under such obstacles labour and perseverance were but thrown
away, and I determined to await the day-light. After tying up the horses
the boy lay down, and was soon asleep, happy in his ignorance of the
dangers which threatened him. I lay down, too, but not to sleep; my own
distresses were lost in the apprehensions which I entertained for those
who were behind. We were now about one hundred and twenty-eight miles