22nd to 23rd May.
We had nearly reached the Victoria River, when, in crossing a gully, Worrell’s horse fell and hurt him so severely that we had to halt for some time before he could be placed on his horse again, and it was therefore fortunate that a small patch of dry grass was found on the bank of the river, which enabled us to halt the next day, which was Sunday. Travelling down the right bank of the river, the principal channels were full of water, but the clay plains between were quite dry, the rain which had caused the river to flow not having extended so far south; nothing could well be more desolate than the unbounded level of these vast plains, which, destitute of vegetation, extended to the horizon. Our horses were reduced to feeding on the decayed weeds, and even these were so scarce that they eagerly devoured the thatch of some old native huts.
27th May.
We had nearly reached the furthest point attained by Mr. Kennedy when the horses showed signs of failing strength, and the channels on the east side of the plain being dry, I conceived it prudent to cross to the western side again. The dry mud was so deeply cracked that the horses were continually falling, and one horse was so completely exhausted that we had to abandon him.
Kennedy’s marked tree.
28th May.
Steering a westerly, and then a north course, we reached the small waterhole at Mr. Kennedy’s second camp on the return route; there was just sufficient water to supply the party for one night, and a few scattered tufts of grass near it, but quite insufficient for the supply of so large a number of horses. Close to the waterhole we found Mr. Kennedy’s marked tree; it was a large box-tree, marked on the north side thus:
K II.
The cuts of the axe and chisel were still quite clear, though twelve years had elapsed; but the slow growth and decay of trees in the interior may be attributed to the dryness of the climate.


