with the bullocks coming back on their tracks; preparing for a start tomorrow, carrying a supply of water; name of our present camp, a fine long sheet of water, Wankadunnie; bears 220 degrees from the camp retreated from.

Monday, October 14.

Started with bullock-dray at 6.30 on a bearing of 18 degrees; after the first nine and a half miles travelled over undulating country of sand, dry flats, and flooded ground. From the top of the highest sandhill at that distance the whole country, particularly to the eastward, is one mass of flooded timbered flats and subject to awful inundations; at those times it must be quite impracticable—the main creek (apparently) upon our right varying from one or two and a half miles in width, with patches of young trees across its bed and sides. If this country had permanent water and rain occasionally it would do well for stock of any kind—having a fair sprinkling of grass compared with anything of late seen; and at fourteen miles on a bearing of 18 degrees came to, and crossed at an angle, the bed of a small dry lake (with lots of fine grass) or watercourse half a mile wide. When rain has fallen on this country it is difficult to say; most of the herbs and grass and shrubs as dry as tinder and will ignite at once—but is much more open and fit for pasture. At sixteen miles on same bearing crossed the bed of salt lake, now dry and of no great extent, running north and south in an extensive flat; spelled and had a pot of tea. Then on a bearing of 357 degrees for nine and a half miles to camp on west side of Siva Lake, or Perigundi Lake; found it exceedingly boggy; and what I supposed was clover, as seen in the distance at my former visit, was nothing but young samphire; little or no grass; watered the horses out of a canvas by buckets; whole distance twenty-five and a half miles; all arrived at about 7 p.m.

Tuesday, October 15.

Anxious to get off to the place reported by the natives as the abode of the white man, or men; and finding this lake won't suit as a depot till my return, on account of its boggy nature and scarcity of feed, I started today to endeavour to find a place suitable for that purpose, and travelled over alternate heavy and high sandhills and flooded wooded polygonum flats with a few grassy patches. At eleven miles on a bearing of about 83 1/2 degrees came to a lake, Cudye-cudyena; plenty of grass and clover but the water all but dried up, a few inches only being around its margin; all the centre and south end and side being a mudbank—but thought it would do by digging. On my way back came on a creek with sufficient water and grass, though dry, to suit the purpose, at two miles, and pushed on to camp. A strange circumstance occurred this evening, showing isolated instances of gratitude and honesty of the natives. In the evening after my return a number of natives were near the camp; amongst them, just as they were about to depart, I observed an elderly man and his son, a boy of eight to ten years who appeared to be an invalid and was about to be carried off by the father. I stopped him and, as I was at supper, gave the youth some bread and meat and tea; when they all took their leave. About the end of the first watch (which was regularly kept) I was awake and heard the person on watch, Middleton, speaking, evidently to a native who, to my astonishment as well as to Middleton's, ventured up to the camp alone at night; and what would the reader suppose his errand was? It was to bring back our axe that one of his tribe had purloined unseen from the camp during the afternoon. On delivery of said article he at once took his leave, promising to come in the morning.

Wednesday, October 16.

In the morning a few of the natives approached the camp, but stood off at a respectable distance, not sure how they were to be dealt with for their dishonesty, till by and bye the old man with a few others came up; and gradually they that stood aloof came up also. Amongst them were women and children to whom I made various little presents of beads and fishhooks, with which they seemed pleased. To the old man for his honesty I gave a tomahawk with which he appeared highly pleased—his name was Mootielina; the thief I could not find out, or would have given him his deserts likewise. They did not muster very strong this morning, only about 100; but numbers of others were visible all round the lake at the different camps. They all appeared very civil, whether from fear or naturally I could not guess. Started bearing 40 degrees, passing north-west arm of lake three-quarters of a mile; then a bearing of 100 degrees. At three-quarters of a mile cleared the timber that surrounds the water-mark of lake; then began to ascend the sandhills which were very soft, high and steep, for about half a mile or little more, to the highest of them on same course. Changed course to 85 degrees, descending the various sandhills for about a mile; then alternate flooded flats with timber (box) and polygonum, and sandhills, till arrived at a water close by my course home yesterday, and within three-quarters of a mile of where I intended to fix the camp as depot; and which will suit the purpose very well, having sufficient water and abundance of grass on a large flooded flat immediately east of, and running north and south. Distance travelled on last course six and a half miles, total distance eight and a half miles to Careri Creek, which seems to flow from the west of north, or nearly north and south; but name of waterhole is Wantula Depot.

Thursday, October 17.

At depot making arrangements for a start; out in search of the water the whites are supposed to be at. I will take with me Mr. Hodgkinson, Middleton, and a native of this country, Bulingani (who seems to say he knows something of the whites) four camels, three horses, one hundred and sixty pounds of flour, thirty-two pounds of sugar, four pounds of tea, eleven pounds of bacon, and some little necessary, etc., for persons likely to be in a weak state. Leave Bell in charge of the arrangements of the camp, Davies in charge of the stores. About twenty natives are encamped within pistol shot; but have made a fold for the sheep and put everything in such a shape that I may find things all right on my return. Opened the sausages and found them all less or more damaged, one tin in fact as nearly rotten as possible, which have to be thrown away; the others are now drying in the sun in the hopes we may be able to use them. We would have been in a sad fix without the sheep.

Friday, October 18.

At 8 a.m. started; crossed well-grassed flooded polygonum flats or plains for an hour, crossing Kiradinte in the Careri Creek; then left the creek on the left and passed over a succession of sand ridges. At 9.15 arrived at Lake Cudye-cudyena at about nine miles. It was quite a treat, abundance of good water, and any quantity of grass of various kinds, and plenty of clover. It bears 345 degrees, is about six miles long, and fully half a mile wide, well timbered. On a bearing from this southern end of lake (now called Lake Buchanan after Mr. Buchanan of Anlaby, from whom the whole party experienced the utmost kindness) Lake Bulpaner, now all but dry (and what was mistaken by me the other day, when in search of a good depot, for this lake—very dissimilar indeed) bears 158 degrees, distant about two miles along almost a valley. Saw some of the natives on the way here, and sent Mr. Hodgkinson and Bulingani back for one of them to forward a letter to Camp Depot to desire them to move on to this place—so much more desirable for a depot than where they now are. Turned out the animals to await their return. In the meantime three lubras arrived on the opposite side of the lake and we called them over. Shortly after, Mr. Hodgkinson and the black came back; we had some luncheon, started the lubras back to the cart at the depot with a note requesting them to advance to this lake and, at 1.25 p.m.,