Monday, 30th July, The Hugh, between McDonnell and Waterhouse Ranges. Proceeded towards the range; at four miles crossed the creek, and half a mile further entered the ranges. We made our former camp of April 9th on the creek, but no water, so followed it down to the westward, and after clearing a hole, found sufficient for our wants in the sand. Camped. Very unwell. Wind, south-east. Not a drop of rain has fallen since we were here before.
Tuesday, 31st July, Between the Waterhouse and James Ranges. Started on a course of 220 degrees, following down the creek through James range, instead of crossing it. I am afraid there will be no water at our camp on the south side. I have a chance of getting some in the range. At two miles met with a good water hole, under a sandstone hill. At seven miles the creek enters the range; the bed is broad, sandy, and gravelled. At twelve miles we found some water, and camped, as I am too unwell to continue in the saddle any longer. Cleared a hole, and obtained water sufficient for our purpose. Wind, south-east.
Wednesday, 1st August, In James Range, on the Hugh. Followed the creek through the remainder of the range, and found water in four different places. I have not the least doubt that there is plenty, but the creek is so broad, and divided into so many courses, that it would require four men at least to examine it well. On arriving at our camp of the 7th April, we found all the water gone. Scratched in the sand, and found a little moisture, but no water; after a fruitless search of an hour, I was going back to the last water that I had seen, six miles distant, when two emus came into the creek, and made for a large gum-tree in the middle. On going to it, I found a fine hole of water round its roots. Camped. Wind the same.
Thursday, 2nd August, The Hugh, South Side of James Range. Went down the south side of the creek, through good grassy country. At fourteen miles in a side creek we found a native well about four feet deep. We camped here, as there is little prospect of finding any more water in the Hugh, which is become broad and sandy. As to surface water, my men have neither the strength nor the appliances for digging. There is plenty of water under this sand, but having only a small tin dish, the labour is too great. My men have now lost all their former energy and activity, and move about as if they were a hundred years old; it is sad to see them; our horses, too, suffer very much from their sore backs. On the south side of the creek are some isolated hills, chiefly composed of limestone, ironstone, quartz, and granite. This morning there was ice on the water left in the tin dish, and also in the canteens, an eighth of an inch thick. It was very cold.
Friday, 3rd August, James Range. I find the water in the well is nearly all gone this morning. It would take us nine hours to water the horses here, so slowly does it come in; I must therefore go back to our last camp. I shall follow the creek round, for there might be a chance of getting some nearer. Saddled, and proceeded up the creek, and at four miles found a little under the limestone rocks coming from a small side creek; gave the horses a drink turning back, and made for the Finke on a course of 160 degrees. Crossing a few stony hills and small plains, at ten miles, we ascended a broken table range, which I have named Warwick Range; it is composed of hard grey limestone and ironstone. We then proceeded through a well-grassed country, with mulga bushes, and at twenty miles camped under a redstone hill, not being able to get any further. No water.
Saturday, 4th August, Small Hill between the Hugh and the Finke. The horses strayed a long way in the night, so that I did not get them till after 11 o'clock this morning, and could not start until noon. Passed over a country of much the same description as yesterday, crossing three stony hills running nearly east and west, and at nine miles camped, without water, in a fine grassy country, which, as the grass is green, will be quite a treat for the horses. About six miles north of Chambers Pillar. Wind, south-east.
Sunday, 5th August, North of Chambers Pillar. At sunrise heavy clouds came up from the south-east, bringing with them a very thick fog, through which I had great difficulty in steering my course; it cleared off about 10 o'clock. I expected rain, but none has fallen; it is now quite clear again. Arrived at the Finke at 12 o'clock, and was very much surprised to find so little water. I had no idea it would have gone away so soon. The bed is very broad and sandy, which is the cause of the rapid disappearance of the large quantity that I saw when I crossed before. This is a great disappointment, as it was my intention to run it down, in the hope that it would take me into South Australia. I shall go one day's journey down, and see what it is; if I can find no more water I must return to this, to rest my horses, and push for the Stevenson. I cannot remain here, for this water will only last a short time. My provisions will barely carry me down, and there is not the least appearance of rain. I am afraid my retreat is cut off. Wind, south-east. Clouds.
Monday, 6th August, The Finke. Thick fog again this morning. From the heavy clouds that have passed yesterday to the south of us, I think a shower of rain may have fallen there; I ought not to allow the chance of it to escape, as it is likely to be my only one until the equinox, and I have not provisions sufficient to remain until that time, so I must push the horses as far as they will go, and then we must walk the rest, which is a very black prospect, considering the weak state we all are in. Proceeded to the south-east, having camped on my former course at two clay-pans, where I think there is a chance of water, if a shower has fallen there. Started on our former course and arrived at the clay-pans without seeing a drop of water; neither is there any in them. Camped; the horses being very tired, from coming through so many sand hills.
Tuesday, 7th August, Clay-pans in Sand Hills. A light dew fell last night and this morning, which I am very glad of; it will be a good thing for the horses. Kekwick was unwell last night, but I cannot stop on his account. He must endure it the best way he can. If I find water at where I suppose the Finke joins the gum creek that runs a little north of Mount Humphries, I will remain there a day to give him rest. He is completely done up. I hope he will not get worse. I must push back as quickly as possible, and get him into the settled districts. At noon we made the Finke. Still the same white, sandy bed; but here it is about a quarter of a mile broad, and the east bank is composed of white sandstone, with a course of light slate on the top of it, then courses of limestone and other rocks, and, on the top of all, red sand hills. The gum-trees are not so large as they are further north. On first striking the creek we could find no water, but, by following it down for a short distance, we discovered a little, which will do for us. It is more than I expected, and I feel most thankful for it. Kekwick still very ill. Poor fellow, he is suffering very much. I dare not show him much pity, or I should have the other giving in altogether. I hope and trust he will soon get better again, and that to-morrow's rest may do him good. He has been a most valuable man to me. I place entire confidence in him. A better one I could not have got. I wish the other had been like him, and then neither he nor I should have suffered so much from hunger. Wind, south-east.
Wednesday, 8th August, The Finke. Resting Kekwick and shoeing horses. This water was going away very rapidly, so I rode down the creek for ten miles to see if there were any more, that I may risk following it down. After joining the West Creek it spreads itself over a broad valley, bounded on the north by sand hills and on the south by stony hills. Course, eastward. It is divided into numerous courses; very sandy, and immense quantities of drift wood about it. Some very large gum-trees piled high on the banks, and a great number of birds of every description; but I could find no water. It is so broad, with so many courses, that it would require half a dozen men to examine it well. If we were to stay searching for water here, and be unsuccessful, and the creeks on ahead were to be dried up, we should lose our horses and have to walk, which Kekwick could not do. I do not consider it would be right thus to risk his life. I shall therefore make for the Stevenson, where I am almost certain to find water. Wind, east.