Monday, 8th September, The Burke. The clouds continued to come up du-ring the night, but after sunrise they cleared off; still no rain. Between one and two p.m. Thring and King returned with the disheartening tidings that there was no water in or about the Tomkinson. I shall give the horses two more days' rest, and push through to Attack Creek, where I am almost sure of there being water. The wind variable, sometimes north, east, and west. The clouds are broken up, and are nearly all gone, without leaving rain.
Tuesday, 9th September, The Burke. Resting horses, mending saddle-bags, etc. Wind, north and variable, with a few clouds from the west and south-west.
Wednesday, 10th September, The Burke. Thring on his return last Monday saw some water about four miles higher up this creek, nearly on our course for the Tomkinson; to that I shall go to-day, and make a start for Attack Creek to-morrow morning. Every mile now gained is of the utmost importance to me. Started early, to get there in the cool of the morning. In an hour and a half arrived at the water and camped. It is situated at the foot of some ironstone conglomerate rock, and will last a week or two longer. It has a number of small fish in it. The soil on its banks is light and a little sandy, with spinifex and grass mixed through it. Wind, north and north-west; the clouds have all disappeared. This morning I again feel very ill. I am very doubtful of my being able to reach the settled districts. Should anything happen to me, I keep everything ready for the worst. My plan is finished, and my journal brought up every night, so that no doubt whatever can be thrown upon what I have done. All the difficult country is now passed, and what remains is well known to those who have been out with me before; so that there is no danger of the party not finding their way back, should I be taken away. The only difficulty they will have to encounter is the scarcity of water, caused by the extreme dryness of the season.
Thursday, 11th September, The Upper Burke. Started at 6.40; crossed the Tomkinson and small grassy plains; ascended the north spur of the Whittington range. After sundown, it becoming quite dark to me, so that I could not see the horse's head before me, I was compelled to halt on the top of the range, four miles from my former camp on the Morphett. Day excessively hot; myself and horses have felt it very much. Wind variable, from the north and north-east.
Friday, 12th September, Top of Whittington Range. At break of day started over the range to my former camp, but found all the water gone. Proceeded down the Morphett, and at four miles found a little in the sandy bottom of what had once been a large hole. There is as much as will do for me until to-morrow by digging. All the clouds gone; not the slightest appearance of rain. The country on fire all round us. Wind, north-west and variable. Day exceedingly hot.
Saturday, 13th September, The Morphett. Started at 7.20, crossed the other spur of Whittington range, and at 11.20 arrived at Attack Creek. There is still an abundant supply of water, although much reduced—much lower than I have ever seen it. In about an hour and a half after camping, some native women came to the lower end of the hole where Billiatt was getting some water. The moment they saw him they went off at full speed. In a short time afterwards one man made his appearance and came marching up towards us. Sent Mr. Kekwick to meet him. As he approached him the black became stationary, and moving back a little, beckoned to some others to come up. Mr. Kekwick observed five or six others down at the lower end of the water hole, one of whom came up. I then sent Frew to Mr. Kekwick. They approached very cautiously, but as soon as they caught sight of Mr. Kekwick's gun, he could not get near them. On laying it down he got a little nearer; they shrank back when he attempted to touch them. Taking out a small strip of white calico which he had in his pocket, he tore it into two and held it out to them. They wished to possess it, but did not fancy coming too close to him for it. He made a sign that he wished to tie it round their wrists; they gradually approached nearer, holding out their arms at full length, and so frightened were they to come close, that he had to reach out his full length to tie them on; after which they gained a little more confidence, pointed towards the gun, imitated the report with their mouth, and held up three fingers, signifying that they recollected my first visit and number, which they do not seem to have forgotten, and seem to dread the appearance of a gun. The first one that came up had a very long spear, with a flat, sharp, and barbed point. They were two elderly stout men, one very much diseased and lame. They remained a long time looking at us. None of the others came up. In a little more than three hours they went off and we saw no more of them during the evening. Wind, south-west, with heavy clouds from the same direction and from the south.
Sunday, 14th September, Attack Creek. During the night the sky frequently became overcast with heavy clouds, which seemed to indicate rain, but none fell. About eight o'clock the wind changed to north-east, bringing up very heavy clouds, which led me to expect rain, but I was much disappointed, for at half-past twelve they all broke up and went off. This morning, at sunrise, I despatched Thring and Nash to see if there is water in Hayward, Phillip, Bishop, Tennant, or Goodiar Creeks. If there is none I shall require to rest the horses for three days, and then push on for the Bonney. It is a very long distance, and only the very best of them will be able to do it. I feel a little better this morning, but still very weak. The pains are increasing in my limbs, and my mouth is so bad I can eat nothing but a little boiled flour. How I am to get over such long pushes I do not know. I must trust entirely to Divine Providence. The natives have not visited us this morning. A little before four o'clock p.m. Nash returned. Thring had sent him back to report that there was water, by digging in the sand, at Hayward Creek, while he goes on to see if there is any other creek. Wind variable, with heavy clouds at sundown.
Monday, 15th September, Attack Creek. Started at 8.40. On crossing the creek, one of the weak horses, which had eaten some poison about the Roper, and which has been getting weaker every day, in attempting to get up the bank, which was not steep, fell and rolled back into the creek. There he had to be some time before he was able to get up. I saw that it was useless taking him any further, therefore left him where he will get plenty of feed and water. Proceeded to the Hayward, where I met Thring. There is some soft mud in Phillip Creek, but none in Bishop Creek. Camped, and cleared out a place for the horses to drink at. A number of natives have been camped on the opposite side of the creek, where they have left their spears, dishes, etc. Thring had arrived here some time before. About twenty of them coming closer to him than was safe, he mounted his horse and chased them to the hills, where they are now seated watching us. Some of them are approaching nearer. Mr. Kekwick could not get them to come near him until one of the old men who visited us at Attack Creek arrived and came up to him, which gave the others confidence. A number of them then came forward—tall, stout, well-made fellows, armed with long heavy spears, having bamboo at one end. One of them had also part of a large sea-shell, but it is so broken and ground down for a scoop that I cannot say of what description it is. The bamboo and the sea-shell show that this tribe has communicated with the sea-coast. They remained until sundown, and then did not seem inclined to go away, but prepared sleeping-places for the night—a proof that this is the only water near. There are upwards of thirty men, besides women and children. Wind, south-east. Clouds all gone.
Tuesday, 16th September, Hayward Creek. The natives showed themselves again at daybreak, but kept on the opposite bank of the creek, having a long look at us, and calling out something at the top of their voices which we could not understand. Watered our horses, saddled, and moved on amidst a succession of yells and screeches from old and young. Proceeded across Short ranges, and Phillip, and Bishop Creeks. Looked into every place I could think of, but could not find a drop. Moved on to Tennant Creek. Found that dry. Tried digging in the sand, without effect. Pushed on to the large rocky water hole in Goodiar Creek, where I made almost sure that I should find some. On arriving, was sadly disappointed to find that dry also. Proceeded across the McDouall range, and camped on a grassy plain between it and Mount Samuel. The natives followed us nearly to Tennant Creek, raising a line of smoke all the way. They kept about a mile to the east of us, on some rising ground that runs nearly parallel with my tracks. We have had to lighten a heavy cart-horse named Charley. When any hardship is to be undergone, he is always the first to show symptoms of giving in. He had only thirty pounds to carry to-day, and he looks ten times worse than those that are carrying one hundred and twenty. I shall require to let him go without anything to-morrow. We shall have to watch the horses during the night to prevent them from straying in search of water. Wind, south-east.
Wednesday, 17th September, McDouall Range. Started at daybreak for the Murchison range. About eleven o'clock the cart-horse gave in, and would not move a step further. I am obliged to leave him; he has been carrying nothing all the morning. Two others that have been very weak from eating some poisonous plant will, I fear, give in before the end of the day. A little after four o'clock I found I must leave them. At dark arrived at the Baker, which I found dry. Camped. This is another night the horses will be without water, and will require to be watched. A quantity of native smoke about. There must be permanent water about this range somewhere, but I have no time to look for it now. Tomorrow I must push on for the Bonney. If that fails me I shall be in a sad predicament, but I trust that the Almighty will still continue to show me the same great kindness that he has done throughout my different journeys. There is very little improvement in my health. I feel very much being in the saddle so long. Twelve hours is almost too much for my weak state, but I must endure it. Wind, south-east.