outh-west, with drizzling rain. Between us
and the river the country was open, but the above-mentioned scrub and low
hills were close behind us; and through this scrub (as appeared by the
foot-marks seen this morning) the gins had passed our camp, and preceded
us along our line of route, making towards the river as soon as our track
approached an open plain, probably because they could not have continued
on the track of the party there, without having been seen by us.

July 15.

The men returned from the river in good time with the cattle, having
neither seen nor heard the natives. The morning was beautiful, and we
proceeded, hoping that the fine weather might last. We passed the place
where we had halted on the 5th, and continued the journey for a mile or
two further in a new direction, by which we cut off a considerable
detour, and gained in direct distance about five miles. We encamped near
a bare hill beyond which the river was about a mile distant.

WEAK STATE OF THE CATTLE.

There was scrub all round us and I did not like our position; but it was
impossible to drive the wearied cattle further. As we approached this
camp I heard the voice of one of the gins answered by that of a male, and
"wite ma" was the subject of conversation; they might have been two miles
from us, as the voices of the natives in the woods are audible, as just
stated, a long way off, in a still evening.

July 16.

After a cold frosty night the morning was fine, and we continued our
journey. At about a mile and a half we entered on our former track, and
after five miles more we encamped on the ground which we had occupied on
the 4th instant. By this short journey I hoped to refresh the cattle a
little, and to make out a better one next day by getting through the
brush and past the natives' bivouac. This camp of ours was a good mile
from the river, and it was very necessary to send a separate party to
remain on its bank all night with the cattle.

July 17.

In these times, when I saw the animals brought up by the men all safe
from the river in the morning, I was wont to thank God in my heart for
their preservation. This morning I set out on a direct line for our
former camp, not so much for the sake of cutting off two miles, which we
did, as to avoid the very soft and heavy ground through which we had
travelled with difficulty in the journey down. In this last and more
direct line we found excellent firm plains for nearly the whole of t