e made in different directions,
and getting into movement as soon as possible. The darkness of a second
night of dreary solitude had passed over our fellow-traveller under the
accumulated horrors of thirst, hunger, and despair!

It was most mysterious that he had not fallen in with our line of route
which was a plain, broad road since the passage of the carts; and had a
direction due north and south for ten miles. The last time he had been
seen was twelve miles back, or about two miles from the dry bed of the
creek (since named Bullock creek) where I changed the direction from
north-west by compass to due north, that I might sooner reach the Bogan,
for the sake of water. It was probable that in following my marked trees
without much attention he had not observed the turn I took there, and
that continuing in the same direction beyond the creek he had therefore
lost them, and had proceeded too far to the westward. This was the more
likely as the dry creek was on the eastward of our line; where, had he
gone that way, he must have found our cattle-tracks, or met with the
cattle. I therefore determined to examine myself the whole country
westward of our line for twelve miles back. I sent The Doctor and Murray
west by compass six miles, with orders to return in a south-east
direction till they intersected the route, and then return along it; and
I sent two other men back along the route in case our missing friend
might have been coming on in a weakly state that way. All three parties
carried water and provisions. I proceeded myself with two men on
horseback, first, seven miles in a south-west direction, which brought me
into the line Mr. Cunningham might have followed, supposing he had
continued north-west. The country I traversed consisted of small plains
and alternate patches of dense casuarina scrubs, and open forest land.

I seldom saw to less distance about me than from one to two miles, or at
least as far as that in some one direction. We continued to cooey
frequently, and the two men were ordered to look on the ground for a
horse's track.

In the centre of a small plain, where I changed my direction to the
south-east, I set up a small stick with a piece of paper fixed in it,
containing the following words:

Dear Cunningham,

These are my horse's tracks, follow them backwards, they will lead you to
our camp, which is north-east of you.

T.L. Mitchell.

Having proceeded in the same manner seven miles to the south