Thursday, 24th May, Range of Low Hills. This morning I feel very ill from climbing the bluff yesterday; I had no sleep during the night, the pains being so very violent. About 9 o'clock we had a heavy shower of rain, and a little more during the night. Very late before the horses were found, and the atmosphere very thick, with the prospect of rain for the rest of the day. This and my being so ill have decided me to remain here until to-morrow, there being sufficient rain water for the horses. A few more light showers during the afternoon and evening. Wind still the same; heavy clouds from the north-west.
Friday, 25th May, Range of Low Hills. I feel better this morning. The clouds have all gone during the night, and it is now quite clear. Started for Mount Strzelecki, passing through some very thick mulga scrub, with a few gum-trees and plenty of grass. At twenty-one miles came upon a small gum creek, where we gave the horses water, filled our own canteens, and proceeded to the foot of the mount and camped. At a mile from its base the spinifex begins again. Wind south-east. Very cold.
Saturday, 26th May, Mount Strzelecki. Ascended the mount, and built a cone of stones. To the east are hills connected with this range, which I have named Crawford Range, after —— Crawford, Esquire, of Adelaide. To the east-north-east is a large wooded undulating plain, with another range in the extreme distance. To the north-east the distant range continues with the same plain between. At a bearing of 55 degrees is a large lagoon, in which there appears to be a little water. To the north-north-east the plain appears to be rather more scrubby, and with a few sand hills. To the north the point of the distant range is lost sight of by some high scrubby land. To the west there are a few low hills, from fifteen to twenty-five miles distant. This range is composed of a hard flinty quartz, partly of a blue colour, with a little ironstone. We can find no permanent water in this range, but, from the two or three native tracks, quite fresh, which we have passed, I think there must be some about. Descended, and proceeded round the range to the lagoon, the range being too rough to cross. There is not enough water to be a drink for the horses. Camped. Very heavy clouds from the north-west. The mount is about four miles distant. At sundown there was a beautiful rain for an hour. It is very strange, the clouds come from the north-west, and the wind from the south-east. The rain seems to be coming against the wind.
Sunday, 27th May, Lagoon North-east of Mount Strzelecki. We had a few heavy showers during the night, but it seems as if the rain would now clear off. I hope not, for there is only about two inches of water in the lagoon. I am again suffering much pain from the exertion it cost me to climb Mount Strzelecki, and from assisting in building the cone of stones; but if I did not put my hands to almost everything that is required, I should never get on. My party is too small. It is killing work.
Monday, 28th May, Lagoon North-east of Mount Strzelecki. We could not get a start till 9.15, the horses having strayed to a distant bank for shelter from the wind, which was piercingly cold. I had, in the first instance, to go three miles north-north-west, in order to clear the low stony range that runs on to the east side of the lagoon. I then changed to 22 degrees to the far-distant range. For the first three miles our course was through a very thick mulga scrub, with plenty of grass, and occasionally a little spinifex; it then changed to a slightly undulating country of a reddish soil, with gum and cork-trees, and numerous low sandy plains, much resembling the gum and spinifex plains to the west, where I was twice beaten back. It certainly is a desert country. Camped without water on a little patch of grass. Distance to-day, twenty-eight miles. Wind south-east. Very cold all day.
Tuesday, 29th May, Scrub, Spinifex and Gum-Trees. Started at 8 on the same course for the range, which is still distant, through the same description of country. At seven miles we came upon a plain of long grass, which seems to have been flooded. It is about two miles broad. Between this and the first hill of the range we passed four more of the same description. Distance to the first hill, fourteen miles. In another mile we struck a small creek; searched for water, but could find none, although birds were numerous; thence through another mulga scrub, and after crossing a number of rough stony hills, we arrived at the top of the range, which I have named Davenport Range, after the Honourable Samuel Davenport, M.L.C. It is composed of hard red sandstone, with courses of quartz. I find this is not the range for which I am bound. Although this one is high, the other is still higher, and, I should think, is still forty or fifty miles distant. The day is thick, and I cannot see distinctly. Between these ranges is a large plain, more open than those we have come over. To the north the range appears to terminate; to the west of north, in the far distance, just visible, are two high hills, the northernmost of which is conical. To the east and south-east is the plain and range; to the west, continuation of the same plain that we have come over in the last two days' journey. Although we had some heavy showers at the lagoon, we have not passed a single water-course, except the one we crossed a few miles before we made this range, nor did we see a drop of surface water: it seems to be all absorbed the moment that it falls. Descended the north-north-east side of the range, and at a mile and a half found some rain water in a creek, coming from the range. Camped. Wind south-east. Distance, twenty miles.
Wednesday, 30th May, The Davenport Range. I find this water will not last more than three days. I have determined to remain here to-day, and have sent Kekwick in search of more water. As I am now a little better, I must get my plan brought up. It has got in arrear, in consequence of my hands being so bad with the scurvy. My limbs are much easier, yet the riding is still very painful; my mouth also is much better, so that I am led to hope that the disease will soon leave me. Native tracks about here, and when I was on the top of the range I saw smoke in the scrub a few miles to the north-west. Sundown: I am quite surprised that Kekwick has not returned, as my instructions to him were not to go above five or six miles, and then to return whether he found water or not. I am very much afraid that something has happened to him.
Thursday, 31st May, The Davenport Range. Kekwick has not returned. I begin to feel very uneasy about him. I must be off and follow up his tracks. Sent Ben for the horses. He was a long time in finding them, as is generally the case when one wants a thing in a hurry. 9.30: Kekwick has arrived before the horses; he overshot his mark last night, and got beyond the camp. I am very glad he is all safe. He informs me that he came upon plenty of water a few miles from here, which compensates for the anxiety he caused me during the night. His reason for not returning as I had directed was that he crossed a gum creek which had so promising an appearance, that he was induced to follow it to the plains, where he found an abundance of water. While he was riding he was taken very ill, and was unable to come on for some time, which made it so late that he could not see to reach the camp. He is unable to proceed to-day, which is vexing, for I wish to get on as quickly as possible.
Friday, 1st June, The Davenport Range. The horses having strayed, we did not get a start till late. Our course was 22 degrees, and at two miles we struck a small gum creek coming from the range and running west-north-west. At three miles and a half we crossed a larger one coming from, and running in, the same direction. Then commenced again the same sort of country that we passed through the other day. At eight miles struck a splendid large gum creek or river, having long and deep reaches of water with fish four or five inches in length; it is running through the plain as far as I can see, which is only a short distance, the ground being low and level. Its course at this place is to the west-north-west; it is very broad, and in some places the banks are perpendicular, and are well grassed and covered with fine gum-trees, mulga and other bushes. From bank to bank its width is about ten chains. This is the finest creek for water that we have passed since leaving Chambers Creek. The day being far advanced, I shall camp here, and get to the range to-morrow. I am very much inclined to follow this creek and see where it empties itself; but I expect to find a large one close to the range, or on the other side. I wish also to get on the top to see what the country on ahead is like. The fact of fish being in this creek leads me to think that it does not empty itself into the gum plains, like others lately passed, but that it must flow either into the sea on the north-west coast, or into a lake. I have named it the Bonney Creek, after Charles Bonney, Esquire, late Commissioner of Crown Lands for South Australia.
Saturday, 2nd June, The Bonney Creek. Started at 8.20 on the same course, 22 degrees, for the range, through a country of alternate spinifex and grass with a little mulga scrub. At seven miles we struck another large gum creek with every appearance of water, but I had no time to look for it, being anxious to make the range to-night, and endeavour to find water either on this side or on the other. The creek is large, and resembles the last. I have named it the McLaren, after John McLaren, Esquire, late Deputy Surveyor-General of South Australia. At seventeen miles, after passing through a well-grassed country with a little scrub, we reached the top of the first range, which is composed of a hard white granite-looking rock, with courses of quartz running through it. I have three or four spurs to cross yet before I make the main range. So far as I can see, McLaren Creek is running much in the same direction as the Bonney. Started from the top of the range and had a very difficult job in crossing the spurs. About sundown arrived all safe on a gum flat, between the ranges, and attempted to get upon what appears to be the highest range, but getting up the horses deterred us. We then sought for water among the numerous gum creeks which cover the plain, and at dark found some, and camped. There is a good supply of water, but I do not think it is permanent; it will last, however, for a month or six weeks. I have named these ranges the Murchison, after Sir Roderick Murchison, President of the Royal Geographical Society, London. Wind varying.