"Like a weeping mourner stooping stand, For ever silent, and for ever
sad."

4TH JANUARY.--The early cooler part of the morning was taken up with the
young cattle. It was now but too obvious that this means of conveyance
was likely to retard the journey to an extent that no pecuniary saving
would compensate, as compared with light carts and horses. I proceeded
forward in search of a deserted stockyard, called Tabbaratong, where some
water was said still to remain. We found some mud and water only;
although some that was excellent was found about two miles lower down the
Bogan, late in the evening.

We had crossed the neutral ground between the savage and the squatter.
The advanced posts of an army are not better kept, and humiliating proofs
that the white man had given way, were visible in the remains of dairies
burnt down, stockyards in ruins, untrodden roads. We hoped to find within
the territory of the native, ponds of clear water, unsoiled by cattle,
and a surface on which we might track our own stray animals, without
their being confused by the traces of others.

5TH JANUARY.--Three of the young cattle having escaped during the night,
retarded us in the morning until 8 o'clock, at which hour they were
brought into the camp, having been tracked by Yuranigh, a most useful
native who had come with us from Buree. I proceeded with the light carts,
guided by a very young native boy, not more than ten years old, who had
come with the party from Kerr's station, and who, being a native of the
lower Bogan, could tell us where water was likely to be found. Our route
was rather circuitous, chiefly to avoid a thick scrub of CALLITRIS and
other trees, which, having been recently burnt, presented spikes so
thickly set together, that any way round them seemed preferable to going
through. We reached plains, and came upon an old track of the squatters.
The grass in parts was green and rich. I could see no traces of my former
route, but we arrived at length at an open spot which Dicky, the young
native, said was "Cadduldury." Leaving Dr. Stephenson with the people
driving the light carts there, I proceeded towards the bed of the Bogan,
which was near, to see what water was there, and following the channel
downwards, I met with none. Still I rode on, accompanied by Piper (also
on horseback), and the dryness of the bed had forbidden further search,
but that I remembered the large ponds we had formerly seen at Bugabada
and Muda, which