Camp 17.  Bearing of 355 degrees.  At three and three-quarter miles crossed a myall creek or flat—­broad, with several dry channels from north-north-east, draining a tier of fine ranges on the east—­the only ones now visible to north or east—­which I have called Scott’s ranges (the tops of which, especially the northern one, are well wooded) after John Scott, Esquire, of Adelaide, a gentleman to whom I am much indebted, in not only giving the use of two of his best horses for my use during the time the expedition would be absent, but in also kindly requesting me to call at his station in the North and take from it what I might consider of service to me.  Over gentle slopes, some stony.  Saw fifteen emu on one of the plains so have named the plain and undulations Emu Downs, to a box creek with abundance of water and feed at seventeen and a half miles.  No timber except on the ranges and creeks.  This appears a small creek to many that are in sight to north and west.  A range continues to north-north-east.  The creek from eastward to westward and southward joining other larger creeks a few miles west of this.  The whole of the country passed over today is excellent pastoral country.  From this camp the north-east termination of Scott’s Ranges, ending in two detached round-looking hills, bears 113 1/2 degrees, about six to ten miles off.

Tuesday, March 25.

Started on bearing of 355 degrees.  At two and a half miles crossed a box creek with plenty of water from north-east to west and south, sweeping considerably towards latter quarter.  At fourteen and a half miles to box creek, dry where I struck it.  Went on bearing of 238 degrees for two miles to a creek with plenty of water and camped.  Sixteen and a half miles over beautifully grassed, very gently sloping and undulating country; rising ground seen to the west in the distance—­flood must be some distance off.  New hawk seen (light-coloured) this afternoon.

Wednesday, March 26.

Camp 19.  Started on bearing of 315 degrees to get closer to course of main creek which I have observed nothing of for the last two days.  Beautiful weather; heavy dews at night.  At ten miles struck and crossed a box creek where it empties itself into a flat; passing over splendid country, the latter part in the small watercourse rather stony and sandy.  A quarter of a mile further on is another box creek, and between it and the first creek is a perfectly boggy swamp full of water, as well as the creek, so have to change course to avoid some of it; bearing of 55 1/2 degrees, over plain for two miles; then bearing 7 1/2 degrees for four and a half miles, first part of it magnificent feed, the rest a morass—­will have to clear out of this to the east for some distance to round it.  Any traveller caught here in rainy weather such as has been lately deluging these vast plains would to a certainty be washed away—­there is not a knoll six feet high within the range of the eye.  Journey today about sixteen and a half miles from point to point, but I made it considerably more in trying to get across the swamp and being obliged to return.  A small hill from top of a tree at camp beyond what appears the main creek in the distance bears 309 degrees; another small one is west and south of that—­no other rising ground to speak of visible, except in the direction we came from and a little east of it.