Friday, August 1.

In Camp.  Boiling down the camel’s meat.  Poole unwell with a slight attack of fever and ague.  We made a fine breakfast this morning off the camel tripe and feet.  I went out onto the top of a very high hill to have a look at the country in front of us.  We shall start tomorrow; I hope shortly to find a station, if not we shall have to kill another horse, and shall have to walk and ride alternately; I hope we shall not come to that as the whole party will be obliged to be kept back on account of having to keep pace with the pedestrian.

Saturday, August 2.

Started at 8.53 a.m., course east by north, each man taking with him a certain weight of the boiled camel before him, as we are now reduced to eleven horses, one alone with pack-bags.  After travelling for some nine or ten miles we came upon the tracks of bullocks, quite fresh, and shortly after were gratified by the sight of the bullocks themselves with two white men tailing them.  We soon now were pitching into roast beef and damper and, don’t let me forget, potatoes and mustard.  The station belongs to Messrs. Harvey and Somers and is situated on the River Bowen, a stream that flows northward into the Burdekin.  Mr. Somers was not in on our arrival; he soon however came in, and we were most hospitably received by him.  The flour during the night and for some few days after had the most astonishing effect on all of us from the fact that our digestive organs could not digest the bread, being so accustomed to the easily digested meat; we were most of us in great pain and our legs and feet swelled very much.