Saturday, 14th April, McDonnell Range. Started at 8 o'clock to follow the creek, as it seems to be the best way of getting through the other ranges; but, as it comes too much from the east, I must leave it, and get through at some of the low hills further down. This we at last contrived to do after a severe struggle. It has taken us the whole day to come about five miles. We are now camped, north of the bluff, at a gorge, in which there is a good spring of water; the creeks now run north from the range.

Sunday, 15th April, The North Gorge of McDonnell Range. I ascended the high hill on the east side of the gorge; the atmosphere being much clearer, I got a better view of the country. To the north-west, between the McDonnell range and the conical hill north-north-west, is a large plain, apparently scrub; no hills on the horizon, but a light shade in the far distance; the conical hill bears 340 degrees from this; it appears to be high. From the foot of this, for about five miles, is an open grassy country, with a few small patches of bushes. A number of gum creeks come from the ranges, and seem to empty themselves in the plains. The country in the ranges is as fine a pastoral hill-country as a man would wish to possess; grass to the top of the hills, and abundance of water through the whole of the ranges. I forgot to mention that the nut we found on the south side of the range is not fit to eat; it caused both men to vomit violently. I ate one, but it had no bad effect on me.

Monday, 16th April, The North Gorge of McDonnell Range. Started at 9 o'clock to cross the scrub for the distant high peak. For five miles the plain was open and well grassed: afterwards it became thick, with mulga bushes and other scrubs. At twenty miles we again encountered the spinifex, which continued until we camped after dark. Distance, thirty miles. Met with no creek or watercourse after leaving the McDonnell ranges.

Tuesday, 17th April, In the Scrub. Got an early start, and continued through the scrub and spinifex on the same course, 340 degrees. At three miles passed a small stony hill, about two miles to the west of our course. At eighteen miles saw to the west two prominent bluff hills, and two or three small ones, about ten miles distant from us. At thirty-two miles crossed a strong rise. There are three reap-hook hills about three miles west, their steep side facing the south. At sundown reached the hills. At two miles passed a small sandy gum creek, the only watercourse we have seen between the two ranges. Followed the range to the north-west till after dark, hoping to find a gum creek coming from the range, but without success; nothing but rocky and sandy watercourses. Camped. The poor horses again without water; I trust that I shall find some for them in the morning; if not, I shall have to return to the McDonnell range. Very little rain seems to have fallen here; the grass is all dried up. The spinifex continues until within a mile of the range. The small gum creek that we passed is running south-west into the scrub.

Wednesday, 18th April, Under the High Peak, Mount Freeling. At daybreak sent Kekwick in search of water, while I ascended the high mount to see if any could be seen from that place. To my great delight I beheld a little in a creek on the other side of the range, bearing 113 degrees, about a mile and a half. I find this is not quite the highest point of the range; there is another hill, still higher, about fifteen miles further to the north-north-west. About two miles off I can see a gum creek looking very green, coming from the range in the direction in which I have sent Kekwick, where I hope he will find water. The country from west to north-east is a mass of hills and broken ranges; to the south-west high broken ranges. To the north-north-east is another hill, with a plain of scrub between. To the south-east scrub, with tops of hills in the far distance. Brinkley Bluff bears 166 degrees and Mount Hay 186 degrees. Returned to the camp, and find to my great satisfaction that Kekwick has discovered some water in the creek about two miles off. I am very glad of it, for I am sure that some of my horses would not have stood the journey back without it. I must not leave this range without endeavouring to find a permanent water, as no rain seems to have fallen to the north of us; everything is so dry, one would think it was the middle of summer. The sun is also very hot, but the nights and mornings are cool. Wind east. Old tracks and native camps about. The range is composed of the same description of rocks as the McDonnell ranges, with rather more quartz than mica. We here found new shrubs and flowers, also a small brown pigeon with a crest. I have built a small cone of stones on the peak, and named it Mount Freeling, after the Honourable Colonel Freeling, Surveyor-General. The range I have called the Reynolds, after the Honourable Thomas Reynolds, the Treasurer.

Thursday, 19th April, Mount Hugh. The horses separated during the night, and were not found until after one o'clock. Moved to the east side of the mount to where I had seen the water from the top. We found plenty of water in the gum creek which is the head of the one we crossed on Tuesday night, just before making the range. We were obliged to come a long way round before we could get to it, the hills being all rough sharp rocks, impassable for horses; abundance of grass with a little spinifex on the hills. At this camp I have marked a tree "J. M.D. S."; the cone of stones on the top of the mount bears 293 degrees. Ten miles distant in a branch creek about half a mile to the north of this is more water; and a little higher up, in a ledge of rocks, is a splendid reservoir of water, thirty yards in diameter and about one hundred yards in circumference. We could not get to the middle to try the depth, but where we tried it it was twelve feet deep. A few yards higher up is another ledge of rocks, behind which is a second reservoir, but smaller, having a drainage into the former one. Native tracks about. Wind north. I have named this Anna's Reservoir, after Mr. James Chambers' youngest daughter.

Friday, 20th April, East Side of Mount Hugh. Started to the south-east to find a crossing place over the range; this was not an easy matter, from the roughness of the hills; at last, however, we got over it. On the other side we found a large gum creek with water in it, running to the north-east. Camped. The range is well grassed, with gum creeks coming from it, and a little mulga scrub. Here we have discovered a new tree, whose dark-green leaf has the shape of two wide prongs; the seed or bean, of which I have obtained a few, is of a red colour; the foliage is very thick. The stem of the largest we have seen is about eighteen inches in diameter. The wood is soft; when in the state of a bush it has thorns on it like a rose. Here we have also obtained some seed of the vegetable we have been using; we have found this vegetable most useful; it can be eaten as a salad, boiled as a vegetable, or cooked as a fruit. We have also some other seeds of new flowers. The bearing from this to the cone of stones on Hugh Mount, 233 degrees 45 minutes.

Saturday, 21st April, Gum Creek, East Side of Mount Freeling. Started at half-past seven across the scrub to another high hill. For seven miles the scrub is open, and the land beautifully grassed. At twelve miles from the camp we crossed another gum creek, coming from the range; as far as I could see it ran to the north-east. After seven miles the scrub became much thicker. We had great difficulty in getting through, from the quantity of dead timber, which has torn our saddle-bags and clothes to pieces. There are a number of gum-trees, and the new tree that was found on Captain Sturt's expedition, 1844, but mulga predominates. At fourteen miles we struck a large gum plain, but after a short time again entered the scrub. At about twenty-two miles met another arm of the gum plains, with large granite rocks nearly level with the surface. We found rain water in the holes of these rocks. At thirty-two miles crossed the sandy bed of a large gum creek divided into a number of channels; too dark to see any water. Four miles further on, camped on a small gum creek with a little rain water; the creeks are running to the north-east. The soil is of a red sandy colour: the grass most abundant throughout the whole day's journey. Occasionally we met with a few hundred yards of spinifex. Wind south-east. Native tracks quite fresh in the scrub and plain; we also passed several old worleys.

Sunday, 22nd April, Small Gum Creek, under Mount Stuart, Centre of Australia. To-day I find from my observations of the sun, 111 degrees 00 minutes 30 seconds, that I am now camped in the centre of Australia. I have marked a tree and planted the British flag there. There is a high mount about two miles and a half to the north-north-east. I wish it had been in the centre; but on it to-morrow I will raise a cone of stones, and plant the flag there, and name it Central Mount Stuart. We have been in search of permanent water to-day, but cannot find any. I hope from the top of Central Mount Stuart to find something good to the north-west. Wind south. Examined a large creek; can find no surface water, but got some by scratching in the sand. It is a large creek divided into many channels, but they are all filled with sand; splendid grass all round this camp.

Monday, 23rd April, Centre. Took Kekwick and the flag, and went to the top of the mount, but found it to be much higher and more difficult of ascent than I anticipated. After a deal of labour, slips, and knocks, we at last arrived on the top. It is quite as high as Mount Serle, if not higher. The view to the north is over a large plain of gums, mulga, and spinifex, with watercourses running through it. The large gum creek that we crossed winds round this hill in a north-east direction; at about ten miles it is joined by another. After joining they take a course more north, and I lost sight of them in the far-distant plain. To the north-north-east is the termination of the hills; to the north-east, east and south-east are broken ranges, and to the north-north-west the ranges on the west side of the plain terminate. To the north-west are broken ranges; and to the west is a very high peak, between which and this place to the south-west are a number of isolated hills. Built a large cone of stones, in the centre of which I placed a pole with the British flag nailed to it. Near the top of the cone I placed a small bottle, in which there is a slip of paper, with our signatures to it, stating by whom it was raised. We then gave three hearty cheers for the flag, the emblem of civil and religious liberty, and may it be a sign to the natives that the dawn of liberty, civilization, and Christianity is about to break upon them. We can see no water from the top. Descended, but did not reach the camp till after dark. This water still continues, which makes me think there must certainly be more higher up. I have named the range John Range, after my friend and well-wisher, John Chambers, Esquire, brother to James Chambers, Esquire, one of the promoters of this expedition.

Tuesday, 24th April, Central Mount Stuart. Sent Kekwick in search of water, and to examine a hill that has the appearance of having a cone of stones upon it; meanwhile I made up my plan, and Ben mended the saddlebags, which were in a sad mess from coming through the scrub. Kekwick returned in the afternoon, having found water higher up the creek. He has also found a new rose of a beautiful description, having thorns on its branches, and a seed-vessel resembling a gherkin. It has a sweet, strong perfume; the leaves are white, but as the flower is withered, I am unable to describe it. The native orange-tree abounds here. Mount Stuart is composed of hard red sandstone, covered with spinifex, and a little scrub on the top. The white ant abounds in the scrubs, and we even found some of their habitations near the top of Mount Stuart.

Wednesday, 25th April, Central Mount Stuart. There is a remarkable hill about two miles to the west, having another small hill at the north end in the shape of a bottle; this I have named Mount Esther, at the request of the maker of the flag. Started at 9 o'clock, on a course a little north of west, to the high peak that I saw from the top of Mount Stuart, which bears 272 degrees. My reason for going west is that I do not like the appearance of the country to the north for finding water; it seems to be sandy. From the peak I expect to find another stratum to take me up to the north-north-west. Around the mount and on the west side, the country is well grassed, and red sandy soil; no stones. To the north and south of our line are several isolated hills, composed principally of granite. At ten miles there is a quartz reef on the north side of the south hills. At twelve miles struck a gum creek coming from the south and running to the north; it has three channels. We found a little rain water in one, and camped, to enable us to finish the mending of the saddle-bags. Wind east; very cold morning and night. The large creek that flowed round Mount Stuart is named the Hanson, after the Honourable R. Hanson, of Adelaide.

Thursday, 26th April, Gum Creek on West Course. Started at a quarter past 8 o'clock on the same course for the high peak. At two miles crossed some low granite and quartz hills; and at four miles crossed a gum creek running to the north with sand and gravel beds. No water. The country then became difficult to get through, in consequence of the number of dead mulga bushes. At ten miles the grass ceased, and spinifex took its place, and continued to the banks of the next gum creek, which we crossed at twenty-two miles; the bed sandy, and divided into a number of channels, coming from the south-east, and running a little to the east of north, but no water in them. Native tracks in its bed. On the west side of the creek the grass again begins, and continues to the hills, where we arrived at five minutes to 7. Camped without water. There seems to have been very little rain here—the grass and everything else is quite dry. Distance, thirty-eight miles.

Friday, 27th April, East Side of Mount Denison. Sent Kekwick to the south-west to a remarkable hill which I hope may yield some water, with orders to return immediately if he should find any nearer, so that we might get some for the horses. I waited till past 12, but he did not return, so I started, intending to go to the top of the mount. On getting to the north-east side of the ranges, I liked the appearance of the country for water, and seeing that the top of the mount was still some distance off, and that it would make it too late to return, I set to work myself to look for water. After an hour's search I was successful, finding some rain water in a gum creek coming from the hills. The natives must have been there quite recently, as their fires were still warm; and, as I had left the camp and provisions with only one man, I hurried back, had the horses saddled and packed, and brought them down to the water, leaving a note for Kekwick to follow in a west-north-west direction to a gum creek about three miles distant. Kekwick's search was also successful; he found permanent water under the high peak to which I sent him, and which I have named Mount Leichardt, in memory of that unfortunate explorer, whose fate is still a mystery. I have seen no trace of his having passed to the westward. Kekwick describes the water he has found as abundant and beautifully clear, springing out of conglomerate rock much resembling marble; its length is upwards of a quarter of a mile, falling into natural basins in the solid rock, some six feet in depth and of considerable capacity. The country round the base of the range is covered with the most luxuriant grass and vegetation. Mount Leichardt and the range are composed, at their base, of a soft conglomerate rock in immense irregular masses, heaped one on the other; the higher part where the spring appears is of the same conglomerate, but broad and solid, having smooth faces, which makes the ascent very difficult.

Saturday, 28th April, Gum Creek under Mount Denison. As soon as the horses were caught I started for the top of the mount. I left my horse in a small rocky gum creek which I thought would lead me to the foot of the mount. At about a quarter of a mile from the mouth of the gorge, I came upon some water in a rocky hole, followed it up, and, two hundred yards further, was stopped by a perpendicular precipice with water trickling over it into a large reservoir. I had now to take to the hills, which were very rough, and after a deal of difficulty I arrived, as I thought, at the top, but to my disappointment I had to go down a fearfully steep gully. At it I went, and again I arrived, as I fancied, at the top, but here again was another gully to cross, and a rise still higher. I have at last arrived at the summit, after a deal of labour and many scratches. This is certainly the highest mountain I have yet ascended; it has taken me full three hours to get to the summit. The view is extensive, but not encouraging. Central Mount Stuart bears 95 degrees. Mount Leichardt, 155 degrees 30 minutes. To the south, broken ranges with wooded plains before them, and in the far distance, scarcely visible, appears to be a very high mountain, a long, long way off. To the south-west the same description of range. About thirty miles to the west is a high mount with open country, and patches of woodland in the foreground. At the north-west there appears to be an immense open plain with patches of wood. To the north is another plain becoming more wooded to the north-east. As this is the highest mountain that I have seen in Central Australia, I have taken the liberty of naming it Mount Denison, after his Excellency Sir William Denison, K.C.B., Governor-General. The next range (bearing 334 degrees), being the last of the highest ones north, I have named Mount Barkly, after his Excellency Sir Henry Barkly, Governor-in-Chief of Victoria. When on the second highest point of this mount, I saw a native smoke rise up in the creek below, a short distance from where I had tied my horse. This naturally made me very anxious for his safety, and when I descended I was rejoiced to find him safe. The natives have been in the creek and on the mount: their tracks, which are quite fresh, lead me to conclude that they have been running. The descent was difficult, but I discovered a shorter route, and it has taken me two hours to come down. Arrived at the camp at 4.30, and found all right. I intended to have built a large cone of stones on the summit; but, when I arrived there, I was too much exhausted to do so. I have, however, erected a small one, placing a little paper below one of the stones, to show that a white man has been there. I have also marked a tree "J. M.D. S." on the creek where we are now camped. Mount Denison bears from here 249 degrees.

Sunday, 29th April, Gum Creek under Mount Denison. Latitude, 21 degrees 48 minutes. Variation, 3 degrees 20 minutes east. Mount Denison and the surrounding hills are composed of a hard reddish-brown sandstone. About one hundred yards from the summit is a course of conglomerate, composed of stones from half an inch to four inches in diameter, having the appearance of being rounded at a former period by water. From the foot to the top of this course is about ten feet, and the breadth on the top is about twelve feet. There is red sandstone on the summit, with three or four pines growing. The mount and adjoining hill are covered with spinifex, but the plain is grassed. The wind has now changed to the west, and it is much hotter.

Monday, 30th April, Under Mount Denison. The wind changed again to the south-east during the night, and is much colder. Started on a course, 315 degrees, across the plain towards Mount Barkly. The highest point of the mount is eighteen miles distant from our camp on the creek. We had to round the west side of it, finding no water until we came upon a little in the gorge coming from the highest point. It was dark before we arrived, so that we could not take the horses up to-night. Wind south-east, blowing a hurricane, and very cold.

Tuesday, 1st May, North-west Side of Mount Barkly. On examining the water, I find it is only a drainage from the rocks, and there is not more than two gallons for each horse. I ascended the hill, but could see nothing more than I had seen from Mount Denison. The base is composed of a hard red sandstone, the top of quartz rock. I do not like the appearance of the country before us. Started on a course of 335 degrees, and at six miles and a half came upon a large gum creek divided into numerous channels: searched it carefully, without finding any surface water; but I discovered a native well about four feet deep, in the east channel, close to a small hill of rocks. Cleared it out, and watered the horses with a quart pot, which took us long after dark—each horse drinking about ten gallons, and some of them more. Natives have been here lately, and from the tracks they seem to be numerous. We also observed the rose-coloured cockatoo. I have named this creek The Fisher, after Sir James Hurtle Fisher; it runs a little east of north.

Wednesday, 2nd May, The Fisher. We did not start until 11 o'clock in consequence of it taking a long time to water the horses. We steered for some hills that I had seen from the top of the last two mounts. At thirteen miles arrived at the hills, but found them low, and no appearance of water. Changed my course west 35 degrees north to some higher hills. At 6.30 camped in the scrub without water. The country from Mount Denison to this is a light-red sandy soil, covered with spinifex, with very little grass, and is nearly a dead level. In some places it is scrubby, having a number of gum-trees, and the new tree of Captain Sturt growing all over it. From a distance it has the appearance of a good country, and is very deceiving; you constantly think you are coming upon a gum creek. Wind south-east; very cold at night and morning.

Thursday, 3rd May, Spinifex and Gum Plains. Started on the same course, west 35 degrees north, and at four miles reached the top of the hills, which are low and composed of dark-red sandstone and quartz. The bearings to Mount Denison, 146 degrees; Mount Barkly, 142 degrees; to another hill west-north-west, 302 degrees, distant about ten miles, which I have named Mount Turnbull, after the late Gavin Turnbull, Esquire, Surgeon in the Indian Army. The morning is very hazy, and I cannot see distinctly; besides, my eyes are again very bad. The appearance of the country all round is that of having gum creeks everywhere. To the north there are some more low hills. A short distance off, on a bearing of 328 degrees, there appears to be a gum creek with something white as if it were water, so I shall change my course. At 3.50 camped, some of my horses being nearly done up from want of water, and having nothing to eat but spinifex. I have now come eighteen miles, and the plain has the same appearance now as when I first started—spinifex and gum-trees, with a little scrub occasionally. We are expecting every moment to come upon a gum creek, but hope is disappointed. I have not so much as seen a water-course since I left the Fisher, and how far this country may continue it is impossible to tell. I intended to have turned back sooner, but I was expecting every moment to meet with a creek. It is very alluring, and apt to lead the traveller into serious mistakes. I wish I had turned back earlier, for I am almost afraid that I have allowed myself to come too far. I am doubtful if all my horses will be able to get back to water. In rainy weather this country will not retain the water on the surface, and we have not so much as seen a clay-pan of the smallest dimensions. The gum-trees on this plain have a smooth white bark, and the leaves are some light-green and some dark. Most of the trees seem very healthy; there are very few dead ones about. To-morrow morning I must unwillingly retreat to water for my horses. There is no chance of getting to the north-west in this direction, unless this plain soon terminates. From what I could see there is little hope of its doing so for a long distance.

Friday, 4th May, Gum and Spinifex Plains. At times this country is visited by blacks, but it must be seldom, as since we left the Fisher we have only seen the track of one, who seems to have come from the east, and to have returned in that direction. The spinifex in many places has been burnt, and the track of the native was peculiar—not broad and flat, as they generally are, but long and narrow, with a deep hollow in the foot, and the large toe projecting a good deal; the other in some respects more like the print of a white man than of a native. Had I crossed it the day before, I would have followed it. My horses are now suffering too much from the want of water to allow me to do so. If I did, and were not to find water to-night, I should lose the whole of the horses and our own lives into the bargain. I must now retreat to Mount Denison, which I do with great reluctance; it is losing so much time, and my provisions are limited. Started back at 7.10 a.m., and at thirty miles came upon a native well, with a little grass round it; the bottom was moist. Unsaddled, and turned the horses out. Commenced clearing out the well the best way we could, with a quart pot and a small tin dish, having unfortunately lost our shovel in crossing the McDonnell ranges. We had great difficulty in keeping the horses out while we cleared it. To our great disappointment we found the water coming in very slowly. We can only manage, in an hour and a half, to get about six gallons, which must be the allowance for each horse, and it will take us till to-morrow morning to water them all. One of us is required to be constantly with them to keep them back, and that he can hardly do; some of them will get away from him do all he can. Kekwick's horse was nearly done up before we reached this place; also one of the others. Those nearest to the cart-breed give in first.

Saturday, 5th May, Native Well. Got all the horses watered by 11 o'clock a.m., and could only get about five gallons for each horse, although we were employed the whole of the night, and got no sleep. Started for the Fisher, and arrived at the native well at sundown. Were obliged to tie the horses up, to keep them from getting into it. We could scarcely get some of them as far as this, as they are quite done up. What was still worse, we found the native well had fallen in since we left. It cannot be helped: we must take things as they come. Commenced immediately to cut a number of stakes, rushes, and grass, to keep the sand back, and by 3 o'clock in the morning we got them all watered, and very thankful we were to do so. It has been, and is still, bitter cold throughout the night and morning, the wind still coming from the south-east. We had a pot of tea, although we could ill afford it, and lay down and got a little sleep, completely tired and worn out with hard work and want of rest.

Sunday, 6th May, The Fisher. Got up at daybreak and went to the well, but found that the rascals of horses had been there before us, and trodden in one side of the well. They had as much water last night and morning as they could drink, and the quantity that some of them drank was enormous. I had no idea that a horse could hold so much, yet still they want more. I shall remain here two days, put down more stakes, clear out the well, and give them as much as they will drink. During this trying time I have been very much pleased with the conduct of Kekwick and Ben; they have exerted themselves to the utmost, and everything has been done with the greatest alacrity and cheerfulness. Although they have only had two hours' sleep during the last two nights, there has not been a single word of dissatisfaction from either of them, which is highly gratifying to me. It is, indeed, a great pleasure to have men that will do their work without grumbling. Watered the horses as they came in. They do not now drink a fourth part of what they did at first.

Monday, 7th May, The Fisher. Had a good night's rest, and felt recovered from the past fatigue. Started for the creek on the east side of Mount Denison, to the water at which we camped before, keeping to the north side of Mount Barkly in search of water, but could find none. Arrived at the creek after dark. Kekwick's horse is entirely done up; he had to get off and lead him for two miles. Another of the horses is nearly as bad, but he managed to get to the creek. We found the water greatly reduced, but still enough for us.

Tuesday, 8th May, Creek East of Mount Denison. I must remain here two days to allow the horses to recover. I am afraid if we have such another journey, I shall have to leave some of them behind. I do not know what is the cause of their giving in so soon; I have had horses that have suffered three times as much privation, and yet have held out. The light ones are all right; it is the heavy ones, of the cart-horse breed, that feel it most. I had been keeping them up on purpose for an occasion like this, and they all looked in first-rate condition, but the work of the past week has made a great alteration in some of them. I suppose the young grass is not yet strong enough for them. It is very vexing to be thus disappointed and delayed. To think that they should fail me at the very moment when I expected them to do their best, and after all the trouble and loss of time I have incurred in giving them short journeys! However, I cannot improve it by complaining, and must rest contented and hope for the best. Wind south-east. Storm brewing.

Wednesday, 9th May, Creek East of Mount Denison. Resting horses and putting our things in order. Wind blowing very strong from the south-east; it has continued nearly in the same quarter since March.

Thursday, 10th May, Creek East of Mount Denison. I find that I must give the horses another day; they have not yet recovered, and I expect we shall have some more hard work for them. We have not quite finished mending.

Friday, 11th May, Creek East of Mount Denison. Ben was taken very ill during the night, and is still so bad that I am obliged to remain here another day. Afternoon: Ben feels much better, so I shall start to-morrow.

Saturday, 12th May, Creek East of Mount Denison. Ben is better, and the horses look as if they can stand a little more hardship. Started at 8.20 on a bearing of 28 degrees east of north, to see if I can get on in that direction. For fourteen miles our course was through mulga scrub and spinifex, in some places very thick. At twenty-seven miles camped without water. The country that we have passed over the last two days is apparently destitute of water, even in rainy weather. I do not think the ground would retain it a single day. Very little feed for the horses.

Sunday, 13th May, Scrub and Gum Flat. I do not like the appearance of the country. As I can see no hope of obtaining water on this course, I shall change to the east, in order to cut the large gum creek that I crossed on the 26th ultimo, and, if I find water in it, to follow it out to wherever it goes. At three miles cut a small gum creek: searched for water both up and down, but could find none, nor any appearance of it. Still keeping my east course, we then passed through a very thick mulga scrub, and at ten miles struck a low range of hills, composed of quartz, with a conical peak, which I ascended. The prospect from this is very extensive, but disheartening, apparently the same sort of scrubby country that I have endeavoured to break through to the north-west. The view to the north is dismal; there are a few isolated hills, seemingly the termination of John range, and of the same formation as this that I am now on. To east-south-east there appears to be a creek, to which I shall now go. At three miles I reached what I had supposed to be a creek, but it is a small narrow gum flat which receives the drainage from this low range. We found a hole where there had been water, but it was all gone. I have named the peak Mount Rennie, after Major Rennie of the Indian army. In this small flat we shot a new macaw, which I shall carry with me, and preserve the skin, if we get to water to-night. The front part of the neck and underneath the wings is of a beautiful crimson hue, the back is of a light lead colour, the tail square, the beak smaller than a cockatoo's, and the crest the same as a macaw's. After leaving this flat, we passed through some scrub, and came upon another of the same description. Here I narrowly escaped being killed. My attention being engaged looking for water, my horse took fright at a wallaby, and rushed into some scrub, which pulled me from the saddle, my foot and the staff that I carry for placing my compass on catching in the stirrup-iron. Finding that he was dragging me, he commenced kicking at a fearful rate; he struck me on the shoulder joint, knocked my hat off, and grazed my forehead. I soon got clear, but found the kick on my shoulder very painful. Mounted again, and at seven miles we came upon some more low hills with another prominent peak of a dark-red sandstone. This I have named Mount Peake, after E.J. Peake, Esquire, of Adelaide. I now find that the gum creek which I crossed between Central Mount Stuart and Mount Denison runs out and forms the gum plains we have just passed. No hope of water. I must now bear in for the centre to get it. Passed through a very thick, nasty mulga scrub for five miles, and camped again without water under some low stony hills. I feel the effects of my accident very much.

Monday, 14th May, Stony Hills, Mulga Scrub. Feel very stiff and ill. Started at daylight, and passed through three belts of thick mulga scrub, between which there were low stony hills. At three miles passed a small gum creek, emptying itself into the scrub. At seventeen miles passed another, doing the same; at twenty miles another, and at twenty-four miles a third, under the hills north-west of Central Mount Stuart. This has a very remarkable hill at the north-west, in the shape of a large bottle with a long neck. We have had the greatest difficulty in getting all our horses to the water; three of them are very bad; two have been down a dozen times during the journey to-day. On approaching the range, we passed through some large patches of kangaroo grass, growing very thickly, and reaching to my shoulder when in the saddle.

Tuesday, 15th May, Centre. The horses look very bad to-day; I shall therefore give them three or four days' rest. It is very vexing, but it cannot be helped. The water here will last about ten days. I shall cause another search for more to be made; I myself am too unwell to assist. Yesterday I rode in the greatest pain from the effects of my fall, and it was with great difficulty that I was able to sit in the saddle until we reached here. Scurvy also has taken a very serious hold of me; my hands are a complete mass of sores that will not heal, but, when I remain for two or three days in some place where I can get them well washed, they are much better; if not, they are worse than ever, and I am rendered nearly helpless. My mouth and gums are now so bad that I am obliged to eat flour and water boiled. The pains in my limbs and muscles are almost insufferable. Kekwick is also suffering from bad hands, but, as yet, has no other symptoms. I really hope and trust that it will not be the cause of my having to turn back. I suffered dreadfully during the past night. This afternoon the wind has changed to the west—the first time since March; a few clouds are coming up in that direction.

Wednesday, 16th May, Centre. I despatched Kekwick at daybreak in search of permanent water, with orders to devote the whole of two days to that purpose. I must now do everything that is in my power to break this barrier that prevents me from getting to the north. If I could only get one hundred and twenty miles from this, I think there would be a chance of reaching the coast. I wish the horses could endure the want of water a day or two longer, but I fear they cannot; this last journey has tried them to their utmost. Two of them look very wretched to-day, and will with difficulty get over it; one I scarcely think will do so. I should not have been afraid to have risked two more days with five of them. If they had been all like these five, I should have tried to the north-west a degree and back again without water. I have been suffering dreadfully during the past three weeks from pains in the muscles, caused by the scurvy, but the last two nights they have been most excruciating. Violent pains darted at intervals through my whole body. My powers of endurance were so severely tested, that, last night, I almost wished that death would come and relieve me from my fearful torture. I am so very weak that I must with patience abide my time, and trust in the Almighty. This morning I feel a little easier; the medicines I brought with me are all bad, and have no effect. The wind still from the north-west, with a few light clouds. Towards sundown the wind has changed to the south-west; heavy clouds coming from the north-west.

Thursday, 17th May, Centre. Wind from the south; the heavy clouds continued until sunrise, and then cleared off. I fully expected some rain, but was disappointed. I have again had another dreadful night of suffering; I had, however, about two hours' sleep, which, as it was the only sleep I have had for the last three nights, was a great boon. This morning I observe that the muscles of my limbs are changing from yellow-green to black; my mouth is getting worse, and it is with difficulty that I can swallow anything. I am determined not to give in; I shall move about as long as I am able. I only wish the horses had been all right, and then I should not have stayed here so long. Kekwick returned at 3 o'clock, and reported having found water in the Hanson, about fifteen miles from Central Mount Stuart, but only a small supply. Beyond that the creek divides into two, one running north and the other east, but he could see no more water further down. He also saw two natives, armed with long spears, about three hundred yards off; they did not observe him, and he thought it most prudent not to show himself, but to remain behind a thick bush until they were gone. In this instance I regret his caution, for I am anxious to see or hear what is the appearance of the Central natives. Wind variable, with heavy clouds from north-west.

Friday, 18th May, Centre. I have again had a very bad night, and feel unable to move to-day. Wind the same.

Saturday, 19th May, Centre. I had a few hours' sleep last night, which has been of great benefit to me. I shall attempt to move down to the water in the Hanson. Arrived there about 1.30 completely done up from the motion of the horse. The water is a few inches below the surface in the sand. East side of Mount Stuart bearing 250 degrees, about ten miles distant. I do not think the water is permanent.

Sunday, 20th May, The Hanson. Another dreadful night for me. Wind and clouds still coming from the north-west, but no rain.

Monday, 21st May, The Hanson. Unable to move; very ill indeed. When shall I get relief from this dreadful state?

Tuesday, 22nd May, The Hanson. I got a little sleep last night, and feel a great deal easier this morning, and shall try my horse back again. I shall now steer north-east to a range of hills that I saw from the top of Central Mount Stuart, and hope from these to obtain an entrance to the north-west or north-east. I also hope to cut the creek that carries off the surplus water from all the creeks which I have passed since March. It must go somewhere, for it is difficult to believe that those numerous bodies of water can be consumed by evaporation. Started on a bearing of 48 degrees, crossed the Hanson, running a little on our right; at six miles crossed it again, running more to the north for two miles further. We crossed four more of its courses, all running in the same direction. The most easterly one is spread over a large salt-creek valley, and forms a lagoon at the foot of some sand ridges, the highest of which is ten miles and a half from our last camp. On the east side of it there is a large lagoon, five miles long by one mile and a half broad, in which water has lately been, but it is now dry. We then proceeded through a little scrub, with splendid grass, and at twelve miles cut a small gum creek, coming from the range. We saw a number of birds about, and there were tracks of natives, quite fresh, in the creek. Sent Kekwick down it to see if there were water, while I went up and examined it. This is the large gum plain that we met with the day we made the Centre; it is completely covered with grass. Kekwick ran the creek out. At about two miles he observed a little water in the creek, where the natives had been digging. He also came upon two of them, and two little children. They did not observe him until he was within fifty yards, when they stood for a few minutes paralysed with astonishment; then, snatching up the children, ran off as quickly as their legs could carry them. They did not utter a sound, although he called to them. He remarked that they had no hair on their heads, or it was as short as if it had been burned off close. I wish I had seen them; I should have overtaken them and seen if it were a fact that the hair was burnt. It is reported in Adelaide that there are natives in the interior without hair on their bodies. At fourteen miles we again struck the creek, and found plenty of water in it. It winds all over the plain in every direction. Camped for the night very much done up. I could hardly sit in my saddle for this short distance. Wind north-west.

Wednesday, 23rd May, Gum Creek, East Range, the Stirling. The wind has changed again to the south-east. I have named this creek the Stirling, after the Honourable Edward Stirling, M.L.C. Followed it into the range on the same course towards a bluff, where I think I shall find an easy crossing. At one mile from the camp the hills commenced on the south-east side of the creek, but on the north-west side they commenced three miles further back. There was abundance of water in the creek for thirteen miles; at ten miles there was another large branch with water coming from the south-east. At fourteen miles ascended the bluff and obtained the following bearings: South side of the creek, to a high part of the range about two miles off (which I have named Mount Gwynne, after his Honour, Justice Gwynne), 186 degrees. North side of the creek, to another hill about two miles and a half off (which I have named Mount Mann, in memory of the late Commissioner of Insolvency), 249 degrees. Central Mount Stuart bears 131 degrees to the highest point. At the north-west termination of the next range, to which I shall now go, there are two very large hills, the north one, which is the highest, I have named Mount Strzelecki, after Count Strzelecki, bearing 358 degrees. I have named the high peak on the same range Mount Morphett, after the Honourable John Morphett, M.L.C. The view from this bluff is extensive, except to the west-north-west, which is hidden by this range just alluded to, which I have named Forster Range, after the Honourable Anthony Forster, M.L.C. From the south-west it has the appearance of a long continuous range, but, on entering it, it is much broken into irregular and rugged hills: on this side, the north-east, it consists of table-hills, with a number of rugged isolated ones on the north side. To the north-west there is another scrubby and gum-tree plain; to the north-north-west are some isolated low ranges; to the north are grassy plains and low ranges; to the east are several spurs from this range, which is composed of a very hard dark-red stone, mixed with small round quartz and ironstone, and in some places a hard flinty quartz. The range and hills are covered with spinifex, but the valleys are beautifully grassed. We descended, and at four miles struck a creek coming from the range, and running between two low ranges towards the north-east. At seven miles changed my course to north-east to camp in the creek, and endeavour to get water for the horses before encountering the scrubby plains to-morrow morning. At five miles came upon a low range, but no creek; it must have gone further to the eastward. It being now quite dark, we camped under the ranges. Since I changed my course I have come through a patch of mulga and other scrubs with plenty of grass, but no watercourses. Wind south-east; heavy clouds from the north-west; lightning in the south and west.

Thursday, 24th May, Range of Low Hills. This morning I feel very ill from climbing the bluff yesterday; I had no sleep during the night, the pains being so very violent. About 9 o'clock we had a heavy shower of rain, and a little more during the night. Very late before the horses were found, and the atmosphere very thick, with the prospect of rain for the rest of the day. This and my being so ill have decided me to remain here until to-morrow, there being sufficient rain water for the horses. A few more light showers during the afternoon and evening. Wind still the same; heavy clouds from the north-west.

Friday, 25th May, Range of Low Hills. I feel better this morning. The clouds have all gone during the night, and it is now quite clear. Started for Mount Strzelecki, passing through some very thick mulga scrub, with a few gum-trees and plenty of grass. At twenty-one miles came upon a small gum creek, where we gave the horses water, filled our own canteens, and proceeded to the foot of the mount and camped. At a mile from its base the spinifex begins again. Wind south-east. Very cold.

Saturday, 26th May, Mount Strzelecki. Ascended the mount, and built a cone of stones. To the east are hills connected with this range, which I have named Crawford Range, after —— Crawford, Esquire, of Adelaide. To the east-north-east is a large wooded undulating plain, with another range in the extreme distance. To the north-east the distant range continues with the same plain between. At a bearing of 55 degrees is a large lagoon, in which there appears to be a little water. To the north-north-east the plain appears to be rather more scrubby, and with a few sand hills. To the north the point of the distant range is lost sight of by some high scrubby land. To the west there are a few low hills, from fifteen to twenty-five miles distant. This range is composed of a hard flinty quartz, partly of a blue colour, with a little ironstone. We can find no permanent water in this range, but, from the two or three native tracks, quite fresh, which we have passed, I think there must be some about. Descended, and proceeded round the range to the lagoon, the range being too rough to cross. There is not enough water to be a drink for the horses. Camped. Very heavy clouds from the north-west. The mount is about four miles distant. At sundown there was a beautiful rain for an hour. It is very strange, the clouds come from the north-west, and the wind from the south-east. The rain seems to be coming against the wind.

Sunday, 27th May, Lagoon North-east of Mount Strzelecki. We had a few heavy showers during the night, but it seems as if the rain would now clear off. I hope not, for there is only about two inches of water in the lagoon. I am again suffering much pain from the exertion it cost me to climb Mount Strzelecki, and from assisting in building the cone of stones; but if I did not put my hands to almost everything that is required, I should never get on. My party is too small. It is killing work.

Monday, 28th May, Lagoon North-east of Mount Strzelecki. We could not get a start till 9.15, the horses having strayed to a distant bank for shelter from the wind, which was piercingly cold. I had, in the first instance, to go three miles north-north-west, in order to clear the low stony range that runs on to the east side of the lagoon. I then changed to 22 degrees to the far-distant range. For the first three miles our course was through a very thick mulga scrub, with plenty of grass, and occasionally a little spinifex; it then changed to a slightly undulating country of a reddish soil, with gum and cork-trees, and numerous low sandy plains, much resembling the gum and spinifex plains to the west, where I was twice beaten back. It certainly is a desert country. Camped without water on a little patch of grass. Distance to-day, twenty-eight miles. Wind south-east. Very cold all day.

Tuesday, 29th May, Scrub, Spinifex and Gum-Trees. Started at 8 on the same course for the range, which is still distant, through the same description of country. At seven miles we came upon a plain of long grass, which seems to have been flooded. It is about two miles broad. Between this and the first hill of the range we passed four more of the same description. Distance to the first hill, fourteen miles. In another mile we struck a small creek; searched for water, but could find none, although birds were numerous; thence through another mulga scrub, and after crossing a number of rough stony hills, we arrived at the top of the range, which I have named Davenport Range, after the Honourable Samuel Davenport, M.L.C. It is composed of hard red sandstone, with courses of quartz. I find this is not the range for which I am bound. Although this one is high, the other is still higher, and, I should think, is still forty or fifty miles distant. The day is thick, and I cannot see distinctly. Between these ranges is a large plain, more open than those we have come over. To the north the range appears to terminate; to the west of north, in the far distance, just visible, are two high hills, the northernmost of which is conical. To the east and south-east is the plain and range; to the west, continuation of the same plain that we have come over in the last two days' journey. Although we had some heavy showers at the lagoon, we have not passed a single water-course, except the one we crossed a few miles before we made this range, nor did we see a drop of surface water: it seems to be all absorbed the moment that it falls. Descended the north-north-east side of the range, and at a mile and a half found some rain water in a creek, coming from the range. Camped. Wind south-east. Distance, twenty miles.

Wednesday, 30th May, The Davenport Range. I find this water will not last more than three days. I have determined to remain here to-day, and have sent Kekwick in search of more water. As I am now a little better, I must get my plan brought up. It has got in arrear, in consequence of my hands being so bad with the scurvy. My limbs are much easier, yet the riding is still very painful; my mouth also is much better, so that I am led to hope that the disease will soon leave me. Native tracks about here, and when I was on the top of the range I saw smoke in the scrub a few miles to the north-west. Sundown: I am quite surprised that Kekwick has not returned, as my instructions to him were not to go above five or six miles, and then to return whether he found water or not. I am very much afraid that something has happened to him.

Thursday, 31st May, The Davenport Range. Kekwick has not returned. I begin to feel very uneasy about him. I must be off and follow up his tracks. Sent Ben for the horses. He was a long time in finding them, as is generally the case when one wants a thing in a hurry. 9.30: Kekwick has arrived before the horses; he overshot his mark last night, and got beyond the camp. I am very glad he is all safe. He informs me that he came upon plenty of water a few miles from here, which compensates for the anxiety he caused me during the night. His reason for not returning as I had directed was that he crossed a gum creek which had so promising an appearance, that he was induced to follow it to the plains, where he found an abundance of water. While he was riding he was taken very ill, and was unable to come on for some time, which made it so late that he could not see to reach the camp. He is unable to proceed to-day, which is vexing, for I wish to get on as quickly as possible.

Friday, 1st June, The Davenport Range. The horses having strayed, we did not get a start till late. Our course was 22 degrees, and at two miles we struck a small gum creek coming from the range and running west-north-west. At three miles and a half we crossed a larger one coming from, and running in, the same direction. Then commenced again the same sort of country that we passed through the other day. At eight miles struck a splendid large gum creek or river, having long and deep reaches of water with fish four or five inches in length; it is running through the plain as far as I can see, which is only a short distance, the ground being low and level. Its course at this place is to the west-north-west; it is very broad, and in some places the banks are perpendicular, and are well grassed and covered with fine gum-trees, mulga and other bushes. From bank to bank its width is about ten chains. This is the finest creek for water that we have passed since leaving Chambers Creek. The day being far advanced, I shall camp here, and get to the range to-morrow. I am very much inclined to follow this creek and see where it empties itself; but I expect to find a large one close to the range, or on the other side. I wish also to get on the top to see what the country on ahead is like. The fact of fish being in this creek leads me to think that it does not empty itself into the gum plains, like others lately passed, but that it must flow either into the sea on the north-west coast, or into a lake. I have named it the Bonney Creek, after Charles Bonney, Esquire, late Commissioner of Crown Lands for South Australia.

Saturday, 2nd June, The Bonney Creek. Started at 8.20 on the same course, 22 degrees, for the range, through a country of alternate spinifex and grass with a little mulga scrub. At seven miles we struck another large gum creek with every appearance of water, but I had no time to look for it, being anxious to make the range to-night, and endeavour to find water either on this side or on the other. The creek is large, and resembles the last. I have named it the McLaren, after John McLaren, Esquire, late Deputy Surveyor-General of South Australia. At seventeen miles, after passing through a well-grassed country with a little scrub, we reached the top of the first range, which is composed of a hard white granite-looking rock, with courses of quartz running through it. I have three or four spurs to cross yet before I make the main range. So far as I can see, McLaren Creek is running much in the same direction as the Bonney. Started from the top of the range and had a very difficult job in crossing the spurs. About sundown arrived all safe on a gum flat, between the ranges, and attempted to get upon what appears to be the highest range, but getting up the horses deterred us. We then sought for water among the numerous gum creeks which cover the plain, and at dark found some, and camped. There is a good supply of water, but I do not think it is permanent; it will last, however, for a month or six weeks. I have named these ranges the Murchison, after Sir Roderick Murchison, President of the Royal Geographical Society, London. Wind varying.

Sunday, 3rd June, Murchison Ranges. I feel very unwell this morning, from the rough ride yesterday. It was my intention to have walked to the top of the range to-day, but I am not able to do so. The small plain between the ranges is a bed of soft white sandstone, through which the different creeks have cut deep courses; the stones on the surface (igneous principally), are composed of iron, quartz, dark black and blue stone, also a bright red one, all run together and twisted into every sort of nick, as also with the limestone, and many other sorts which I do not know. This plain is covered with a most hard spinifex, very difficult to get the horses to face. In another creek, about one mile south-west from the camp, is a large water hole which will last six months; it is ten yards long by twenty yards wide.

Monday, 4th June, Murchison Ranges. Started on a course of 330 degrees to round this spur of the ranges, and at four miles and a half changed to 15 degrees to the high point of the range, and at three miles arrived on the top. I have named it Mount Figg. The view from this is extensive. The course of this range from the south to this point is 25 degrees; it then makes a turn to the north-north-west, in which direction the country appears more open, with some patches of thick scrub, and high ranges in the distance. From north-west to west it appears to be gum plain, with open patches of grass, and a number of creeks running into it from the range. I shall change my course to a high peak on the north-west point of the range, which bears from this 340 degrees 30 minutes. This range is volcanic here, and is of the same formation as I have already given. Started from the top of the mount at 12 o'clock. Went for eight miles along the side of the range, and met with a small gum creek running on our course; followed it up for three miles without finding water; it then took a more westerly course, so I left it to pursue my route. After leaving the mount, the range is composed of red sandstone with a little quartz. We have occasionally met with a little limestone gravel. Camped at 6 o'clock, without water.

Tuesday, 5th June, Gum-Tree Plain. Started on the same course at 7 o'clock for the high peak, through the same sort of country as yesterday. No watercourse. At fifteen miles ascended the peak, which I have named Mount Samuel, after my brother. The top is a mass of nearly pure ironstone. It attracted the compass 160 degrees. From north to west are broken ranges and isolated hills of a volcanic character, in all sorts of shapes. The isolated hills seem to be the termination of these ranges, which run nearly north and south. I have named them the McDouall Ranges, after Colonel McDouall, of the 2nd Life Guards, Logan, Wigtownshire. I then changed my course to the north-north-east in search of water, there being no appearance of any to the north-north-west. After travelling five miles over small grassy, scrubby plains, between isolated hills and gum-trees, I could not find a water-course, so I changed to the east, to try if I could see anything from a high hill, which I ascended, and discovered a gum creek coming from the range on the east side. Followed it down, and, one mile and a half from the top, found a splendid hole of water in the rock, very deep, and permanent. The creek is very rocky, and its course here is north-east into the plain. Wind south-east. Clouds from the north-west.

Wednesday, 6th June, Gum Creek, North-east Side of the McDouall Ranges. There being nothing but spinifex on the ranges and creeks, the horses had been travelling nearly all night in search of food, and had gone a long way before they were overtaken. This morning saddled and got a start by 11 o'clock on a course of 340 degrees, crossing numerous creeks and stout spinifex, through which we had great difficulty in driving the horses. At five miles struck a gum creek in which we found water. The banks have excellent feed upon them, and in abundance, so, for the sake of the horses, I have determined to remain here to-day. This creek, which I have named Tennant Creek, after John Tennant, Esquire, of Port Lincoln, runs east. In searching for the horses this morning Ben found three or four more large water holes in the adjoining creek, a little south-east from this. Before we reached this, we crossed some marks very much resembling old horse-tracks.

Thursday, 7th June, Tennant Creek, McDouall Ranges. Started at 7.20. Course, 340 degrees. At three miles passed through an immense number of huge granite rocks piled together and scattered about in every direction, with a few small water-courses running amongst them to the eastward. We then encountered a rather thick scrub, and occasionally crossed a few low quartz rises coming from the McDouall ranges. At fourteen miles ascended the highest of them, which I have named Mount Woodcock, after the Venerable the Archdeacon of Adelaide. To the north-west and north is another range, about ten miles distant, which seems to continue a long way. I will change my course to 315 degrees, which will take me to the highest point. At two miles on this course came upon a gum creek running to the north-east, which I named Bishop Creek; followed it for one mile and a half, and found water, which will last a month or six weeks, and an immense number of birds. This is a camping-place of the natives, who seem to have been here very lately. We watered the horses and proceeded towards the range. At about two miles passed a low rugged ironstone range, peculiar in having a large square mass of ironstone standing by itself about the centre. I have named it Mount Sinclair, after James Sinclair, of Port Lincoln. Passed through a thick scrub, among which we saw a very handsome bush that was new to us, having a blue-green leaf ten inches long by six inches broad. We looked for some seed, but could not find any. At five miles crossed a grassy gum plain, where a creek empties itself. The same scrub continues to the range, which we reached at twelve miles from the water. It is not very high, but rough and steep, and we had great difficulty in getting to the top, but after many twistings and turnings and scramblings, we arrived there all right, and found it to be table land. At fourteen miles camped without water. The range is composed of ironstone, granite, quartz and red sandstone, running north of west and south of east. I have named it Short Range, after the Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Adelaide.

Friday, 8th June, Short Range. Started at 8 o'clock on the same course, 315 degrees, to some very distant rising grounds. Short range seems to run nearly parallel to our course, as also does another distant range to the north, which I have named Sturt Range, after Captain Sturt. The table land continued about two miles, and then there was a gradual descent to the plains, and we entered a thick scrub with spinifex and gums. At eighteen miles came upon a beautiful plain of grass, having large gum-trees, and a new description of tree, the foliage of which is a dark-green and rather round, and the bark rough and of a dark colour. Here also was the cork-tree, and numerous other shrubs. This grassy plain continued for thirty-one miles, until we camped, but the last part is not so good. When I struck this plain, I was in great hopes of finding a large creek of water, but have been disappointed; we have not crossed a single water-course in thirty-one miles. Camped at sundown. No water. Wind south-east.

Saturday, 9th June, Grassy Plain. There is some rising ground a few miles further on, to which I shall go in search of a creek; I might be able to see something from it. If I do not find water I shall have to retreat to Bishop Creek, as the horses have now been two nights without water. Started at 7 o'clock, same course, 315 degrees, through scrub and a light sandy soil. At four miles got to the rise, which is a scrubby sand-hill. From this I can see nothing, the scrub being so thick; it is of a nasty, tough, wiry description, and has torn our hands and saddle-bags to pieces. I got up a tree to look over the top of this scrub, which is about twelve feet high, and I could see our course for a long distance; it appears to be the same terrible scrub, with no sign of any creeks. It is very vexing to get thus far, and have to turn back, when perhaps another day's journey would bring me to a better country. I shall now try a south course, and cut the grassy plains to the westward, in the hope of finding water; if so, I shall be able to make two days' journey to the north-west. Started on a south course for fourteen miles, through scrub and small grassy plains alternately, but we could find neither creek nor water. I now regret that I attempted the south course, which makes the distance from the water so much greater. Wind still south-east; heavy clouds coming from the north-west, I trust it will rain before morning.

Sunday, 10th June, Grassy Plains. Started at sunrise, and at two miles again got into the scrub. Three of the horses we can scarcely get along; they are very much done up. At 11 o'clock, one horse gave in altogether. We cannot get him up; we have tried everything in our power to do something for him. The other horses have been carrying his load, and he has had nothing to carry for this last hour and a half; all our efforts are in vain, and I am obliged, although with great reluctance, to leave him to his fate. Had this occurred nearer the water, I should have put an end to his existence and taken part of him to eat, for we are now very short of provisions, and the other horses have quite enough to carry without sharing his load; I wish I had left him sooner. At 12 o'clock, I find I shall lose some more of them, if they do not get water to-night, and it will be to-morrow before I can reach Bishop Creek. I shall now go to Short range and try to find some. The little bay mare Polly has become nearly mad, running about among the other horses, and kicking them as she passes; even the men do not escape from her heels. At five miles made the range. There are no large creeks coming from this side—nothing but small ones which empty themselves into the plain; sand up to the foot of the hills. Before we reach the range another of the horses is done up; he has only been carrying about 30 pounds in consequence of his back having been bad for the last three weeks. We lightened all the weak horses two days since. We shall now try if he will go without anything on his back. We are now amongst the granite ridges, and hope we shall find water on this side. The horse has given in before we can get to the other side. We must leave him for the sake of the others. Too much time has already been lost in endeavouring to get them on. Reached the other side and searched the different creeks, but cannot find any water. Crossed a spur of the range running south, and can see a nice-looking creek with gum-trees. Our hopes and spirits are again revived; the sight of it has even invigorated the horses, and they are hurrying on towards it. Traversed it down, but, to our great disappointment, find that it loses itself in a grassy plain. It is now dark, so I must remain here for the night. The sky is quite overcast, and I trust that Providence will send us rain before morning. An accident has happened to the water we were carrying; it was all lost yesterday. If it clears during the night, so that I can see the stars to guide me, I shall move on.

Monday, 11th June, Short Range. During the night there were a few drops of rain, which again raised our hopes, and about 4 o'clock it looked as if we were to have a deluge, but, alas! it only rained for about two minutes, and as much fell as would wet a pocket-handkerchief. Saddled and started through the range, my poor little mare looking very bad this morning; I have taken everything off her, so that she may hold out until we get to water, and I have been obliged to leave as many things at this camp as I could possibly do without. The mare lies down every few yards, I am therefore compelled to leave her for the sake of the others. From the number of birds about here, I think there must be water near; I hope she may find it, although I am afraid she is too far gone even to try it. At 1 o'clock, at the foot of Mount Woodcock, the horses' spirits revived at sight of their old track. I shall now be able to get all the rest of them safe to water, although there is one still doubtful. My own black mare shows a few symptoms of madness, but still keeps on, and does her work well. About an hour before sundown arrived at the water without any more losses, for which I sincerely thank the Almighty. We have had a terrible job to keep the horses from drinking too much water, but, as they have now eaten a few mouthfuls of grass, I have allowed them to drink as much as they thought proper. The natives have been here since we left.

Tuesday, 12th June, Bishop Creek. Resting: the horses look very bad; they remained by the water all night.

Wednesday, 13th June, Bishop Creek. The horses still look very bad this morning; they have again stayed by the water nearly all night; they had been one hundred and one hours without a drop, and have accomplished a journey of one hundred and twelve miles; they will require a week to recover; one of them is very lame from a kick the little mare gave him in her madness. Thus ends my last attempt, at present, to make the Victoria River; three times have I tried it, and have been forced to retreat. About 11 o'clock I heard the voice of a native; looked round and could see two in the scrub, about a quarter of a mile distant. I beckoned to them to approach, but they kept making signs which I could not understand. I then moved towards them, but the moment they saw me move, they ran off immediately. About a quarter of an hour afterwards they again made their appearance on the top of the quartz reef, opposite our camp, and two others showed themselves in about the same place as the two first did. Thinking this was the only water, I made signs to the two on the reef to go to the water; but they still continued talking and making signs which I could not understand; it seemed as if they wished us to go away, which I was determined not to do. They then made a number of furious frantic gestures, shaking their spears, and twirling them round their heads, etc. etc., I suppose bidding us defiance. I should think the youngest was about twenty-five years of age. He placed a very long spear into the instrument they throw them with, and, after a few more gestures, descended from the reef, and gradually came a little nearer. I made signs of encouragement for him to come on, at the same time moving towards him. At last we arrived on the banks of the creek, he on one side, and I on the other. He had a long spear, a womera, and two instruments like the boomerang, but more the shape of a scimitar, with a very sharp edge, having a thick place at the end, roughly carved, for the hand. The gestures he was making were now signs of hostility, and he came fully prepared for war. I then broke a branch of green leaves from a bush, and held it up towards him, inviting him to come across to me. As he did not seem to fancy that, I crossed to where he was, and got within two yards of him. He thought I was quite near enough, and would not have me any nearer, for he kept moving back as I approached. I wished to get close up to him, but he would not have it; we then stood still, and I tried to make him understand, by signs, that all we wanted was water for two or three days. At last he seemed to understand, nodded his head, pointed to the water, then to our camp, and held up his five fingers. I then endeavoured to learn from him if there was water to the north or north-east, but I could make nothing of him. He viewed me very steadily for a long time, began talking, and seeing that I did not understand him, he made the sign that natives generally do of wanting something to eat, and pointed towards me. Whether he meant to ask if I was hungry, or to suggest that I should make a very good supper for him, I do not know, but I bowed my head as if I understood him perfectly. We then separated, I keeping a careful watch upon him all the time I was crossing the creek. Before I left him the other one joined. The first was a tall, powerful, well-made fellow, upwards of six feet; his hair was very long, and he had a red-coloured net tied round his head, with the ends of his hair lying on his shoulders. I observed nothing else that was peculiar about them. They had neither skins nor anything round their bodies, but were quite naked. They then took their departure. A short time afterwards I saw them joined by five others. We have seen nothing more of them to-day, and I hope they will not trouble us any more, but let me get my horses rested in peace. Wind south, all the clouds gone; nights and mornings very cold. Occupied during the day in shoeing horses, and repairing and making saddle-bags.

Thursday, 14th June, Bishop Creek. On examining the water holes, I find there are small crab fish in them, which leads me to think this water is permanent. This morning we again hear the voices of the natives up the creek to the west. There must be plenty more water up there, as most of the birds go in that direction to drink, passing by this water. The natives have not come near us to-day, but we have seen the smoke of their fires. Shoeing horses, repairing and making saddle-bags, which were torn all to pieces by the scrub.

Friday, 15th June, Bishop Creek. Resting horses, and getting our equipment in order for another trial, as I think the horses will be ready to start on Monday morning. No more of the natives but their smoke is still visible. Wind south; day hot, night cool.

Saturday, 16th June, Bishop Creek. The horses are still drinking an immense quantity of water; they are at it five and six times a day; they must have suffered dreadfully. The grass here is as dry as if it were the middle of summer, instead of winter. I hope we may soon have rain, which would be a great blessing to me.

Sunday, 17th June, Bishop Creek. The horses still pay frequent visits to the water. We have found more about a mile up the creek, and there seems to be plenty further up in the hills; I cannot examine it just now, in consequence of the natives being about. It would not do for me to leave, as the party is so small, nor do I like sending one of them, for he might be taken by surprise and cut off, which would ruin me altogether, being able to do scarcely anything myself. Although I am much better, I am still very weak; the pains in my limbs are not so constant. I attribute the relief to eating a number of native cucumbers which are in quantities on this creek. The horse that was kicked by the mare is still very lame. Wind south-east.

Monday, 18th June, Bishop Creek. Started at 9.30 on a bearing of 18 degrees, through a plain of alternate grass, scrub, and spinifex, and at five miles passed a number of isolated hills close together, composed of large masses of ironstone, quartz, and a hard brown rock, very irregular, and all sorts of shapes; the stones seem as if they had undergone the action of fire. We then proceeded through some very bad spinifex, dark-coloured, long, hard and dry; we could scarcely get the horses to face it. We then came upon a grassy plain, and at ten miles struck a gum creek coming from the west of north-west, and running (at this place) east-north-east; followed it and found an abundance of water in long deep holes, with shells of the crab fish lying on the banks. The water is upwards of a mile in length; the creek then spreads out over a grassy plain with scrub and gum-trees, and is joined by the other creeks coming from the McDouall range. I thought it advisable to camp here for the rest of the day, as a further journey would be a risk for the horse that is lame, and I do not wish to lose any more; as it is, I am afraid he will not be able to cross Short range, which I hope to do in a few hours. Natives about. Splendid grass on this plain, and on the banks of the creek, which I have named Phillips Creek, after John Phillips, Esquire, J.P., of Kanyaka. Wind variable.

Tuesday, 19th June, Phillips Creek. Started at 8 o'clock on the same bearing, 18 degrees. We first passed through a well-grassed plain with a little scrub, then again through hard spinifex to the range. At one mile crossed another gum creek with water in it, coming from Short range. At four miles reached the top of the spur of the range; and at seven miles, the top of the range. About two miles to the east, the range seems to terminate in a gum plain, a spur from the McDouall range running on the other side of the plain, and crossing our line a few miles further on. Short range here is composed of quartz, ironstone, and red granite, with a little limestone. Descended into the plain, and at ten miles came upon another gum creek, spreading over a grassy plain, but could find no water. At thirteen miles came upon some dry swamps with a number of birds about them. At fourteen miles reached the top of the next range. From this the appearance of the country, on this course, is evidently very scrubby. On a bearing of 55 degrees, in the far distance, is the termination of another range. I do not like facing the scrub again so soon after my late loss, and with my horses not yet recovered. I shall return to the swamps and look for water. If I find any, I shall start in the morning for the end of the distant range. My lame horse is unable to do more to-day; crossing the range has been very hard upon him. Returned to the swamps and found a fine pond of water. Camped. The water is derived from the creek that we passed in the middle of the day. I have named these ponds after Kekwick, in token of the zeal and activity he has displayed during the expedition.

Wednesday, 20th June, Kekwick Ponds. Saddled at sunrise, and proceeded to the top of the low range, from which I turned back yesterday, and changed my course to 56 degrees to the northernmost point of the distant hills, through a plain of alternate grass and spinifex. At 3 o'clock struck the William Creek again, with splendid grass on its banks. It ran nearly our course for about three miles, and then turned to the east. We then entered the same sort of scrub as that in which I lost my horses; this continued until we reached the hills, which we did in about eighteen miles. From this we can see a range to the south-south-east. About ten miles off there is a large lake, with red sand hills on the east side. I cannot see the extent of it, the hills that I am now on being so low; they are composed of granite, and run north and south. To the north and north-east is another lake, about the same distance, to which I shall go on a course of 32 degrees 30 minutes. On the north side of this one there are also sand hills with scrub. For two miles after leaving the hills we passed through a soft, sandy, scrubby country and spinifex. It then became harder, with grass and spinifex alternately. At four miles from the hills we camped without water. My horses have not recovered from their last trial, and seem to be very tired to-night, although to-day's journey was not a long one, but it has been very hot, and the scrub thick and difficult to get through.

Thursday, 21st June, Scrub. The horses having gone back on the track, we did not get a start until 8.30—course, 32 degrees 30 minutes to a high hill on the other side of the lake, passing through a thick scrub of cork-tree and gums, with spinifex and grass. At seven miles came upon what I thought was the lake, but it turns out to be a large plain of rich alluvial soil covered with dry grass, which gave it the appearance of a lake. It was three miles across to the top of the hill; no water-course through, nor any water to be seen. The hills on the north side are composed of ironstone and granite, and, from the distance, looked very much like sand hills. From the top of the hill I can see the plain extending a little to the west of north, but I cannot see far for the mirage. To the north-north-east is another plain of the same description, but much smaller, about a mile and a half broad, and nearly circular. To the north-east is another very extensive one; its dimensions I cannot see. I seem to have got into the land of grassy plains and low stony hills. I wish my horses had had water last night or yesterday. They seem to be very much in want of it. I must devote the rest of this day to a search for it. I shall now direct my course for the south part of the plain that I have just crossed; it seems to be the lowest part, and the flight of the birds is directed that way. Searched all round, but can find no water; so I must return to Kekwick Ponds. The day is extremely hot, and my horses cannot stand two more nights without water. Would that they had more endurance! It is dreadful to have to turn back almost at the threshold of success. I cannot be far from the dip of the country to the Gulf. Returned by another course to where I camped last night, but still no water. I would fain try the plain to the south, but I dare not risk the loss of more horses. Proceeded to the low range that I crossed yesterday; examined round it, but cannot find any water. Camped. Two of the horses very much done up. I must go back through that nasty scrub again.

Friday, 22nd June, Under the West Low Range. Started at sunrise for the ponds, and at 1.30 arrived; the horses being very much exhausted. I am glad I did not remain another night without water; three of them are completely done up, and it has been with difficulty that we have got them here. Wind south-west.

Saturday, 23rd June, Kekwick Ponds. Resting horses. About 1 o'clock we were visited by two natives, who presented us with four opossums and a number of small birds and parrots. They were much frightened at first, but after a short time became very bold, and, coming to our camp, wanted to steal everything they could lay their fingers on. I caught one concealing the rasp that is used in shoeing the horses under the netting he had round his waist, and was obliged to take it from him by force. The canteens they seemed determined to have, and it was with difficulty we could get them from them. They wished to pry into everything, until I lost all patience and ordered them off. In about half an hour two other young men approached the camp. Thinking they might be in want of water, and afraid to come to it on account of the horses, I sent Ben with a tin dishful, which they drank. They were very young men, and too much frightened to come any nearer. About an hour before sundown, one of the first that had come, returned, bringing with him three others, two of whom were young, tall, powerful, well made, and good-looking, and as fine specimens of the native as I have yet seen. On their heads they had a neatly-fitting hat or helmet close to the brow, and rising straight up to a rounded peak, three or four inches above the head and gradually becoming narrower towards the back part. The outside was net-work; the inside was composed of feathers very tightly bound together with cord until it was as hard as a piece of wood; it may be used as a protection from the sun, or as armour for the battle-field. One of them had a great many scars upon him, and seemed to be a leading man. Only two had helmets on, the others had pieces of netting bound round their foreheads. One was an old man, and seemed to be the father of these two fine young men. He was very talkative, but I could make nothing of him. I have endeavoured, by signs, to get information from him as to where the next water is, but we cannot understand each other. After some time, and having conferred with his two sons, he turned round, and surprised me by giving me one of the Masonic signs. I looked at him steadily; he repeated it, and so did his two sons. I then returned it, which seemed to please them much, the old man patting me on the shoulder and stroking down my beard. They then took their departure, making friendly signs until they were out of sight. We enjoyed a good supper from the opossums, which we have not had for many a day. The men are complaining of weakness from the want of sufficient nourishment. I find the quantity of rations is not enough; five pounds of flour per week is too little for many weeks together. It may do very well for a month or so, but when it comes to the length of time we have been out, we all feel it very much; and the dried meat that I brought with me being very young, it has not half the strength in it that old meat has.

Sunday, 24th June, Kekwick Ponds. Our black friends have not made their appearance to-day.

Monday, 25th June, Kekwick Ponds. Started again on a bearing of 345 degrees to some very distant hills, to see if I can get into the face of the country to the Gulf of Carpentaria. At two miles crossed a large gum creek (with long beds of concrete ironstone), which I have named Hayward Creek, after Frederick Hayward, Esquire. The banks are beautifully grassed, and extend for four miles on the north side. At fourteen miles struck a gum creek with large sheets of water in which were plenty of ducks, native companions, black shags, cranes, and other birds. Camped here for the remainder of the day. The course of the creek at this point is to the north of east, and coming from the north of west, apparently from the range, which is distant about ten miles. It very much resembles Chambers Creek. The ponds (in which we found some small fish) are about eighty yards broad, and about three quarters of a mile long, having large masses of concrete ironstone at both ends, separating the one pond from the other; large gum-trees being in the ponds. Wind north-west. Very hot.

Tuesday, 26th June, Large Gum Creek, with Sheets of Water. I have resolved to follow this creek down to-day, and, if the water continues, to follow it out. Started on a course 77 degrees, and at six miles crossed the creek, which is running a little more to the north. There are long sheets of water all the way down to this, the banks in some places being steep, with the lower part formed of concrete, and the upper red sandy soil, which gives me a bad opinion of it for water, if the concrete ceases. Here we saw some blacks; they would not come near us, but walked off as fast as they could. From the top of the rise we saw where they were camped, on the banks of a large sheet of water; we passed on without taking any more notice of them, and at nine miles, not seeing any appearance of the creek, I changed my course to 25 degrees. At three quarters of a mile cut it again, but without water in it; it is much narrower and deeper, having sandy banks and bed. Changed again to 77 degrees, the creek frequently crossing our course, and at fifteen miles saw there was no hope of obtaining water. The country is becoming more sandy, and is thickly covered with spinifex and scrub. We crossed down to the banks of the creek; no rising ground visible. I must keep closer to the hills, and, as the day has been very hot, I shall return and camp at nine miles from our last camp, if there is water; if not, I shall have to camp a short way above where we saw the natives this morning. I do not wish to get too near them, or to annoy them in any way. We could find no water below where they were camped; I therefore pushed on to get above them before dark. At half-past one o'clock, about three miles from the creek, we saw where they had been examining our tracks, and as we approached the creek their tracks became very numerous on ours. When we arrived on the top of the rise, where we had previously seen their camp and fires, we could now see nothing of them, neither smoke, fires, nor anything else: it was then nearly dark. I concluded they had left in consequence of having seen us pass in the morning, as natives in general do. I was moving on to the place where we crossed the creek in the morning, when suddenly from behind some scrub which we had just entered, up started three tall powerful fellows fully armed, having a number of boomerangs, waddies, and spears. Their distance from us was about two hundred yards. It being so nearly dark, and the scrub we were then in placing us at a disadvantage, I wished to pass without taking any notice of them, but such was not their intention, for they continued to approach us, calling out and making all sorts of gestures apparently of defiance. I then faced them, making every sign of friendship I could think of. They seemed to be in a great fury, moving their boomerangs above their head, bawling at the top of their voices, and performing some sort of a dance. They were now joined by more of their tribe, so that in a few minutes their numbers had increased to upwards of thirty; every bush seemed to produce a man. Putting the horses on towards the creek, and placing ourselves between them and the natives, I told my men to get their guns ready, for I could see they were determined upon mischief. They paid no regard to all the signs of friendship I kept constantly making, but were still gradually approaching nearer and nearer to us. I felt very unwilling to fire upon them, and still continued making signs of peace and friendship, but all to no purpose. Their leader, an old man, who was in advance, made signs with his boomerang, which we took as a signal for us to be off. They were, however, intended as tokens of defiance, for I had no sooner turned my horse's head to comply with what I thought were their wishes, than we received a shower of boomerangs, accompanied by a fearful yell; they then set fire to the grass, and commenced jumping, dancing, yelling, and throwing their arms into all sorts of postures, like so many fiends. In addition to the thirty that already confronted us, I could now see many others getting up from behind the bushes. Still I felt unwilling to fire upon them, and tried again to make them understand that we wished to do them no harm. Having now approached within about forty yards of us, they made another charge, and threw their boomerangs, which came whistling and whizzing past our ears, one of them striking my horse. I then gave orders to fire, which stayed their mad career for a little. Our pack-horses, which were on before us, took fright when they heard the firing and fearful yelling, and made off for the creek. Seeing some of the blacks running from bush to bush, with the intention of cutting us off from our horses, while those in front were still yelling, throwing their boomerangs, and coming nearer to us, we gave them another reception, and I sent Ben after the horses to drive them on to a more favourable place, while Kekwick and I remained to cover our rear. We soon got in advance of those who were endeavouring to cut us off, but they still kept following, though beyond the reach of our guns, the fearful yelling still continuing from more numerous voices, and fires springing up in every direction. It being now quite dark, with the country scrubby, and our enemies bold and daring, we could be easily surrounded and destroyed by such determined fellows as they have shown themselves to be. Seeing there is no hope with such fearful odds (ten to one at least) against us, and knowing all the disadvantages under which we labour, I very unwillingly make up my mind to push on to our last night's camp. We have done so, and now I have had a little time to consider the matter over I do not think it prudent to remain here to-night; I shall therefore continue on until I reach the open grassy plain or gum creek. They are still following us up; I only wish that I had four more men, for my party is so small that we can only fall back and act on the defensive. If I were to stand and fight them (which I wish I could) our horses must remain unprotected, and we, in all probability, should be cut off from them. Our enemies seem to be aiming at that, and to prevent our advance up the creek; by this time they have found out their mistake, as we did not go a step out of our course for them. Arrived at Hayward Creek at 11 o'clock at night.