TODD RANGE.

29th. Rained lightly during the night; my rug got wet. Thinking we could get plenty of water ahead, I left the drums and water, as the horses would not drink. We steered about east over miserable spinifex country, and cut my brother's return tracks. Passed a rock hole seen by him, and found only a few pints of water in it, proving to us that very little rain had fallen. We sighted the range and hill seen by my brother, and reached it at sundown. I have named it the Todd Range, and the highest hill, which is table-topped, I have named Mount Charles, after Mr. C. Todd, C.M.G., Postmaster-General of South Australia. No sign of water, and apparently very little rain has fallen here last night. Found an old natives' encampment, and two splendid rock holes quite dry; if full they would hold 700 or 800 gallons. Was very disappointed at this, and it being now after dark we camped without water for the horses, having travelled over forty miles. Before we reached the range we had most miserable spinifex sand-hills. Scarcely any feed in the range, and spinifex everywhere. What grass there is must be over two years old.

30th. Very thick fog this morning. We bore north for four or five miles, and then South-East for about five miles, when we got a fine view to the east, and could see some hills, which are no doubt near Mr. Gosse's farthest west. They bore South-East about eighteen miles distant. I could not go on to them, as I was afraid the party would be following us, on the strength of the little rain we had the night before last. Reluctantly, therefore, we turned westward, and soon after came to an old native encampment with a rock hole quite dry, which would hold 1000 gallons if full. It must be a long while since there has been rain, or it would not have been dry. We continued on, searching up and down and through the Todd Ranges, finding enough for our horses from the rain. Late in the afternoon we found another camping-place with four rock holes quite empty, which, if full, would hold 3000 or 4000 gallons at least. This was very disheartening, and we felt it very much. It appeared to us that there was no water in this country at this season, and we felt it was useless looking for it. We now decided to make back towards the party; but being uncertain that my brother would not follow, on the strength of the rain, determined to bear South-West until we struck our outward tracks. After going six miles, camped without water, and nothing but some old coarse scrub for the horses. One good shower of rain would enable us to get over this country easily; but in this season, without rain, it is quite impossible to move a number of horses.

A NATIVE HUSBAND.

31st. Steering about South-East towards our outward tracks, came across a native with his wife and two children, the youngest about two years old. As soon as they saw us, the man, who had a handful of spears, began talking at us and then ran off (the eldest child following him), leaving his wife and the youngest child to take care of themselves. The child was carried on its mother's back, and hung on without any assistance. Thus encumbered, the woman could not get away. She evidently preferred facing any danger to parting with her child. Windich spoke to her, and she talked away quietly, and did not seem much afraid. We could not understand anything she said, so allowed her to follow her husband, who certainly did not come up to our standard of gallantry. We continued on until we reached our outward tracks, and I was much relieved to find that the party had not gone on. We found a little water in a small rock hole, and rested two hours, as our pack-horse (Little Brown) was knocked up. We continued on about five miles, and camped on a patch of feed in a range, without water. Little Brown was so knocked up that we had great difficulty in getting him to walk.

August 1st. Steering westerly for about eight miles, reached our bivouac of the 28th, and gave our horses the water from the drums. Continued on, making straight for camp; stayed two hours to give the horses a rest, and when within fifteen miles of camp found a rock hole with about 100 gallons of water in it. Little Brown completely gave in, and we were obliged to leave him. Pushed on and reached the party a little after dark, and found all well, having been absent five days, in which time we had travelled about 200 miles.

2nd (Sunday). My brother and Pierre went on a flying trip to the South-East in search of water. Kennedy and myself went and brought Little Brown and pack-saddle, etc., to camp. Windich shot an emu; saw about twenty. Thermometer 95 degrees in sun during the day; barometer 28.62 at 5 p.m.

PREPARING FOR A STRUGGLE.

I now began to be much troubled about our position, although I did not communicate my fears to any but my brother. We felt confident we could return if the worst came, although we were over 1000 miles from the settled districts of Western Australia. The water at our camp was fast drying up, and would not last more than a fortnight. The next water was sixty miles back, and there seemed no probability of getting eastward. I knew we were now in the very country that had driven Mr. Gosse back. I have since found it did the same for Mr. Giles. No time was to be lost. I was determined to make the best use of it if only the water would last, and to keep on searching. (Even now, months after the time, sitting down writing this journal, I cannot but recall my feelings of anxiety at this camp.) Just when the goal of my ambition and my hopes for years past was almost within reach, it appeared that I might not even now be able to grasp it. The thought of having to return, however, brought every feeling of energy and determination to my rescue, and I felt that, with God's help, I would even now succeed. I gave instructions to allowance the party, so that the stores should last at least four months, and made every preparation for a last desperate struggle.

3rd. Rested at camp. My brother and Pierre did not return this evening, so I concluded they must have found some water for their horses. Barometer falling slowly; getting cloudy towards evening.