Wednesday, 13th June, Bishop Creek. The horses still look very bad this morning; they have again stayed by the water nearly all night; they had been one hundred and one hours without a drop, and have accomplished a journey of one hundred and twelve miles; they will require a week to recover; one of them is very lame from a kick the little mare gave him in her madness. Thus ends my last attempt, at present, to make the Victoria River; three times have I tried it, and have been forced to retreat. About 11 o'clock I heard the voice of a native; looked round and could see two in the scrub, about a quarter of a mile distant. I beckoned to them to approach, but they kept making signs which I could not understand. I then moved towards them, but the moment they saw me move, they ran off immediately. About a quarter of an hour afterwards they again made their appearance on the top of the quartz reef, opposite our camp, and two others showed themselves in about the same place as the two first did. Thinking this was the only water, I made signs to the two on the reef to go to the water; but they still continued talking and making signs which I could not understand; it seemed as if they wished us to go away, which I was determined not to do. They then made a number of furious frantic gestures, shaking their spears, and twirling them round their heads, etc. etc., I suppose bidding us defiance. I should think the youngest was about twenty-five years of age. He placed a very long spear into the instrument they throw them with, and, after a few more gestures, descended from the reef, and gradually came a little nearer. I made signs of encouragement for him to come on, at the same time moving towards him. At last we arrived on the banks of the creek, he on one side, and I on the other. He had a long spear, a womera, and two instruments like the boomerang, but more the shape of a scimitar, with a very sharp edge, having a thick place at the end, roughly carved, for the hand. The gestures he was making were now signs of hostility, and he came fully prepared for war. I then broke a branch of green leaves from a bush, and held it up towards him, inviting him to come across to me. As he did not seem to fancy that, I crossed to where he was, and got within two yards of him. He thought I was quite near enough, and would not have me any nearer, for he kept moving back as I approached. I wished to get close up to him, but he would not have it; we then stood still, and I tried to make him understand, by signs, that all we wanted was water for two or three days. At last he seemed to understand, nodded his head, pointed to the water, then to our camp, and held up his five fingers. I then endeavoured to learn from him if there was water to the north or north-east, but I could make nothing of him. He viewed me very steadily for a long time, began talking, and seeing that I did not understand him, he made the sign that natives generally do of wanting something to eat, and pointed towards me. Whether he meant to ask if I was hungry, or to suggest that I should make a very good supper for him, I do not know, but I bowed my head as if I understood him perfectly. We then separated, I keeping a careful watch upon him all the time I was crossing the creek. Before I left him the other one joined. The first was a tall, powerful, well-made fellow, upwards of six feet; his hair was very long, and he had a red-coloured net tied round his head, with the ends of his hair lying on his shoulders. I observed nothing else that was peculiar about them. They had neither skins nor anything round their bodies, but were quite naked. They then took their departure. A short time afterwards I saw them joined by five others. We have seen nothing more of them to-day, and I hope they will not trouble us any more, but let me get my horses rested in peace. Wind south, all the clouds gone; nights and mornings very cold. Occupied during the day in shoeing horses, and repairing and making saddle-bags.
Thursday, 14th June, Bishop Creek. On examining the water holes, I find there are small crab fish in them, which leads me to think this water is permanent. This morning we again hear the voices of the natives up the creek to the west. There must be plenty more water up there, as most of the birds go in that direction to drink, passing by this water. The natives have not come near us to-day, but we have seen the smoke of their fires. Shoeing horses, repairing and making saddle-bags, which were torn all to pieces by the scrub.
Friday, 15th June, Bishop Creek. Resting horses, and getting our equipment in order for another trial, as I think the horses will be ready to start on Monday morning. No more of the natives but their smoke is still visible. Wind south; day hot, night cool.
Saturday, 16th June, Bishop Creek. The horses are still drinking an immense quantity of water; they are at it five and six times a day; they must have suffered dreadfully. The grass here is as dry as if it were the middle of summer, instead of winter. I hope we may soon have rain, which would be a great blessing to me.
Sunday, 17th June, Bishop Creek. The horses still pay frequent visits to the water. We have found more about a mile up the creek, and there seems to be plenty further up in the hills; I cannot examine it just now, in consequence of the natives being about. It would not do for me to leave, as the party is so small, nor do I like sending one of them, for he might be taken by surprise and cut off, which would ruin me altogether, being able to do scarcely anything myself. Although I am much better, I am still very weak; the pains in my limbs are not so constant. I attribute the relief to eating a number of native cucumbers which are in quantities on this creek. The horse that was kicked by the mare is still very lame. Wind south-east.
Monday, 18th June, Bishop Creek. Started at 9.30 on a bearing of 18 degrees, through a plain of alternate grass, scrub, and spinifex, and at five miles passed a number of isolated hills close together, composed of large masses of ironstone, quartz, and a hard brown rock, very irregular, and all sorts of shapes; the stones seem as if they had undergone the action of fire. We then proceeded through some very bad spinifex, dark-coloured, long, hard and dry; we could scarcely get the horses to face it. We then came upon a grassy plain, and at ten miles struck a gum creek coming from the west of north-west, and running (at this place) east-north-east; followed it and found an abundance of water in long deep holes, with shells of the crab fish lying on the banks. The water is upwards of a mile in length; the creek then spreads out over a grassy plain with scrub and gum-trees, and is joined by the other creeks coming from the McDouall range. I thought it advisable to camp here for the rest of the day, as a further journey would be a risk for the horse that is lame, and I do not wish to lose any more; as it is, I am afraid he will not be able to cross Short range, which I hope to do in a few hours. Natives about. Splendid grass on this plain, and on the banks of the creek, which I have named Phillips Creek, after John Phillips, Esquire, J.P., of Kanyaka. Wind variable.
Tuesday, 19th June, Phillips Creek. Started at 8 o'clock on the same bearing, 18 degrees. We first passed through a well-grassed plain with a little scrub, then again through hard spinifex to the range. At one mile crossed another gum creek with water in it, coming from Short range. At four miles reached the top of the spur of the range; and at seven miles, the top of the range. About two miles to the east, the range seems to terminate in a gum plain, a spur from the McDouall range running on the other side of the plain, and crossing our line a few miles further on. Short range here is composed of quartz, ironstone, and red granite, with a little limestone. Descended into the plain, and at ten miles came upon another gum creek, spreading over a grassy plain, but could find no water. At thirteen miles came upon some dry swamps with a number of birds about them. At fourteen miles reached the top of the next range. From this the appearance of the country, on this course, is evidently very scrubby. On a bearing of 55 degrees, in the far distance, is the termination of another range. I do not like facing the scrub again so soon after my late loss, and with my horses not yet recovered. I shall return to the swamps and look for water. If I find any, I shall start in the morning for the end of the distant range. My lame horse is unable to do more to-day; crossing the range has been very hard upon him. Returned to the swamps and found a fine pond of water. Camped. The water is derived from the creek that we passed in the middle of the day. I have named these ponds after Kekwick, in token of the zeal and activity he has displayed during the expedition.
Wednesday, 20th June, Kekwick Ponds. Saddled at sunrise, and proceeded to the top of the low range, from which I turned back yesterday, and changed my course to 56 degrees to the northernmost point of the distant hills, through a plain of alternate grass and spinifex. At 3 o'clock struck the William Creek again, with splendid grass on its banks. It ran nearly our course for about three miles, and then turned to the east. We then entered the same sort of scrub as that in which I lost my horses; this continued until we reached the hills, which we did in about eighteen miles. From this we can see a range to the south-south-east. About ten miles off there is a large lake, with red sand hills on the east side. I cannot see the extent of it, the hills that I am now on being so low; they are composed of granite, and run north and south. To the north and north-east is another lake, about the same distance, to which I shall go on a course of 32 degrees 30 minutes. On the north side of this one there are also sand hills with scrub. For two miles after leaving the hills we passed through a soft, sandy, scrubby country and spinifex. It then became harder, with grass and spinifex alternately. At four miles from the hills we camped without water. My horses have not recovered from their last trial, and seem to be very tired to-night, although to-day's journey was not a long one, but it has been very hot, and the scrub thick and difficult to get through.
Thursday, 21st June, Scrub. The horses having gone back on the track, we did not get a start until 8.30—course, 32 degrees 30 minutes to a high hill on the other side of the lake, passing through a thick scrub of cork-tree and gums, with spinifex and grass. At seven miles came upon what I thought was the lake, but it turns out to be a large plain of rich alluvial soil covered with dry grass, which gave it the appearance of a lake. It was three miles across to the top of the hill; no water-course through, nor any water to be seen. The hills on the north side are composed of ironstone and granite, and, from the distance, looked very much like sand hills. From the top of the hill I can see the plain extending a little to the west of north, but I cannot see far for the mirage. To the north-north-east is another plain of the same description, but much smaller, about a mile and a half broad, and nearly circular. To the north-east is another very extensive one; its dimensions I cannot see. I seem to have got into the land of grassy plains and low stony hills. I wish my horses had had water last night or yesterday. They seem to be very much in want of it. I must devote the rest of this day to a search for it. I shall now direct my course for the south part of the plain that I have just crossed; it seems to be the lowest part, and the flight of the birds is directed that way. Searched all round, but can find no water; so I must return to Kekwick Ponds. The day is extremely hot, and my horses cannot stand two more nights without water. Would that they had more endurance! It is dreadful to have to turn back almost at the threshold of success. I cannot be far from the dip of the country to the Gulf. Returned by another course to where I camped last night, but still no water. I would fain try the plain to the south, but I dare not risk the loss of more horses. Proceeded to the low range that I crossed yesterday; examined round it, but cannot find any water. Camped. Two of the horses very much done up. I must go back through that nasty scrub again.
Friday, 22nd June, Under the West Low Range. Started at sunrise for the ponds, and at 1.30 arrived; the horses being very much exhausted. I am glad I did not remain another night without water; three of them are completely done up, and it has been with difficulty that we have got them here. Wind south-west.