d the
creeks on ahead were to be dried up, we should lose our horses and have
to walk, which Kekwick could not do. I do not consider it would be right
thus to risk his life. I shall therefore make for the Stevenson, where I
am almost certain to find water. Wind, east.

Thursday, 9th August, The Finke. Started early on our former tracks,
passing Mount Humphrey and Mount Beddome. Camped at our old place. I
should think from the appearance of the country that the Finke takes a
south-east course from where I left it yesterday. The hills run that way.
Wind, south-south-east.

Friday, 10th August, South of Mount Beddome. Proceeded on our former
course to the Stevenson, which we made a little before dark, and found
water, but I am quite surprised to see so little of it left. The fine
large holes are nearly dry. Wind, east.

Saturday, 11th August, The Stevenson. The horses having lost some shoes,
I am forced to remain here to-day to put others on. There is more water a
little further down the creek, at which I camped. No rain seems to have
fallen since I was here before. The sun has been very hot to-day. Wind,
east-south-east.

Sunday, 12th August, The Stevenson. I was too unwell to move yesterday,
but, feeling a little better this morning, I rode down the creek. For
three miles it takes a south-east course, then east-south-east through
table land, with rocky and precipitous hills on each side. I then went on
a south-east course for nine miles, through a splendidly-grassed country,
with numerous small creeks running into the Stevenson. During my ride I
found plenty of water, and splendid grass, up to the saddle-flaps, and
quite green. Ducks and numerous other birds abound here; the water is
quite alive with them. I regret that I have not provisions enough to
enable me to follow this creek round its different bends. It is a
splendid feeding country for cattle, and much resembles Chambers Creek.
Wind, south-east.

Monday, 13th August, The Stevenson. Started on a course of 135 degrees to
see if the Stevenson comes from the south; continued on the table land,
from where I left it yesterday for sixteen miles from last night's camp,
when we suddenly dropped into the bed of a large broad sandy gum-creek,
coming from the west, which I find to be the Ross. There are many rushes
about it; it runs in three or four courses, in all of which water can be
obtained by scratching in the sand. There are plenty of birds. It is
evidently rai