disagreeable.  Got to camp at five miles bearing 337 degrees.  The heat so oppressive travelling completely out of the question.  Will leave the cart and many sundries here.  Seized with a violent attack of dysentery.  Our remaining native quite broken-hearted at losing the other, shall be obliged to let him go this afternoon; it is a pity as he would have been of much service in giving me the names of the different waters and places which to someone in future might be of much use.  However I may get another if I soon meet with other natives; but unfortunately at present, from the rain that has lately fallen, they have principally left the creek and gone to the sandhills.  Their habitations are very numerous on the creek so they must be pretty strong in number here.  Lots of fish still in the holes; appear to be multa multa principally.  We got some from the two natives at our first camp on the creek, and lots of mussel shells about their old fires.

Sunday, February 16.

In camp, very ill.

Monday, February 17.

In camp, very ill; still getting the gear ready for tomorrow, if I am able to start—­pain slightly gone.  Had the curiosity to weigh and found I had lost fourteen pounds in three days from the violence of the attack; when I left town I weighed fifteen stone eleven pounds, now I weigh exactly twelve stone.  Clear but excessively hot with occasionally a little thunder and some showers this morning, and it looked as if we were going to have it heavy but it passed off.

Tuesday, February 18.

With one thing and the other, and one of the bullocks absent, was late at starting.  Pain gone today but excessively weak.  Started at 11.30, course 340 degrees; flooded box-cracked land for one mile.  At seven and a half miles further passing over bare mud plain destitute of any vegetation, with a couple of sandhills and the main creek beyond them to the east.  On this distance half a mile off is the bed of a large creek flowing to the south and west, no water at present in it.  Close to this point one of our best bullocks was struck dead with the heat of the sun walking leisurely along carrying nothing; the rest of the party were much in advance and, as it was such a fearfully hot day and not a drop of water near, nothing could be done with the flesh of him unfortunately.  At five miles further came to a large deep creek flowing westward, no water in it.  Up to this point was to be seen in the distance westward apparent breaks in the sandhills with box timber in each; and I have no doubt many of those places form into large creeks by the terrific overflow of this main creek.  At one mile further on (340 degrees) crossing this creek on to top of sandhill, changed course to 38 degrees, the creek from the sandhill bearing considerably eastward.  At two and a quarter miles over flooded flats and at some rainwater where I afterwards camped; at two miles further struck the creek but not a drop of water; searched up and down