ously, I gave each some tea and some bread and meat,
and told them if they behaved well they would be treated in every respect
as before, and share with us our little stock of provisions as long as it
lasted.

I now learnt that they had fared in the bush but little better than I
should have done myself. They had been absent four days, and had come
home nearly starved. For the first two days they got only two small
bandicoots and found no water; they then turned back, and obtaining a
little water in a hollow of the cliffs, left by the shower which had
passed over, they halted under them to fish, and speared a sting-ray;
this they had feasted on yesterday, and to-day came from the cliffs to
look for us without any thing to eat at all.

During the night some heavy clouds passed over our heads, and once a drop
or two of rain fell. The 26th broke wild and stormy to the east and west,
and I determined to remain one day longer in camp, in the hope of rain
falling, but principally to rest the two natives a little after the long
walk from which they had returned. Breakfast being over, I sent the
overseer and one native to the beach, to try to get a sting-ray, and to
the other I gave my gun to shoot wallabie: no fish was procured, but one
wallabie was got, half of which I gave to the native who killed it, for
his dinner.

Being determined to break up camp on the 27th, I sent the King George's
Sound native on a-head, as soon as he had breakfasted, that, by preceding
the party, he might have time to spear a sting-ray against we overtook
him. The day was dull, cloudy, and warm, and still looking likely for
rain, with the wind at north-east. At eleven we were ready, and moved
away from a place where we had experienced so much relief in our
extremity, and at which our necessities had compelled us to remain so
long. For twenty-eight days we had been encamped at the sand-drifts, or
at the first water we had found, five miles from them. Daily, almost
hourly, had the sky threatened rain, and yet none fell. We had now
entered upon the last fearful push, which was to decide our fate. This
one stretch of bad country crossed, I felt a conviction we should be
safe. That we had at least 150 miles to go to the next water I was fully
assured of; I was equally satisfied that our horses were by no means in a
condition to encounter the hardships and privations they must meet with
in such a journey; for though they had had a long rest, and in some