a creek, in which I
thought there might be water; examined it and found two water holes, with
plenty of grass upon their banks. The water is not permanent. Our course
to-day has been across stony plains (covered on the surface with
fragments resembling hard white quartz), with sand hills about two miles
broad dividing them. The black did not know of this water; I am very
doubtful of his knowing anything of the country. The stony plains are
surrounded by high heavy sand hills, especially to the west and
north-west; I dare not attempt to get through them without rain. They are
much higher than the country that I am travelling through. It seems as if
there had been no rain for twelve months, every thing is so dried and
parched up. On further examination of the creek we have found a large
hole of clear water, with rushes growing round it; I almost think it is
permanent, and intend to run the risk of falling back upon it should I be
forced to retreat and wait for rain. The creek seems to drain the large
stony plains that we crossed; the water is three and a half feet deep,
ten yards wide, by forty yards long.

Monday, 21st June, Water Creek. Started at 9.30 a.m. on a course of 25
degrees. At a mile passed a small table-topped hill to the west of our
line; at three miles and a half crossed the creek; at four miles passed
another table-topped hill connected with the low range to the east, and
passed the first ironstone hill; at seven miles changed to 55 degrees; at
eight miles halted at a large permanent water hole (Andamoka). I can with
safety say that this is permanent; it is a splendid water hole, nearly as
large as the one at the mouth of the gorge in the John. The low range to
the east of our course, and running nearly parallel with it, is composed
of conglomerate, quartz, and a little ironstone. Part of to-day's journey
was over low undulating sandy and very well grassed country. There seems
to have been a little rain here lately; the grass is springing
beautifully. At eleven miles we came upon a salt lagoon (Wealaroo) two
miles long by one broad. From the north end of it, on a bearing of 55
degrees, one mile and a half will strike Andamoka. I think we have now
left the western sand hills behind us; and now that we have permanent
water to fall back on, I shall strike into the north-west to-morrow. The
distance travelled to-day was fifteen miles. The country around this
water consists of bold stony rises and sand, with sal