of 301 degrees, so returned; met them just having dinner; repacked and led them to water—­distance travelled twenty-four miles.  This is an immense creek and is still flowing slowly through and over the sand in its bed; it is upwards of 300 yards wide, comes from the west and south through the ranges, joins another about a mile north of this and passes round a small stony hill on its right bank, then takes a northerly course then, and lastly as far as I could discern, a north-east course.  Very heavy gum timber.  I am sorry to say today our marking chisel was lost so we will not be able to mark any more trees.  The creek I have called the Marchant after William Marchant, Esquire, of Mananarie.  The main creek is now a very considerable distance east.  I hoped to have struck it before this but the spurs from the main range keep it off.  Passed today a vast number of smaller tributaries from west; immense reefs and masses of quartz and small ranges composed of shining slabs of a grey, tough and wavy stone with masses of quartz.  A good deal of spinifex but no scrub to interrupt us.  Will make for a distant low spur of main range tomorrow in my course.

Saturday, April 26.

Camp 43.  Very mild night; a great many clouds; a likelihood of rain.  Started on bearing of 336 degrees over a vast quantity of strong spinifex; bad travelling although not very stony.  Not so much quartz today although large piles of it are to be seen.  Crossed Marchant’s Creek and at one mile crossed a tributary.  At ten miles came to a very fine creek about 400 yards broad, in one of its branches from sixty to eighty yards; broad water completely fills the space as far as you can see southward and westward.  I have called it the Williams after Edward Williams, Esquire, of the North of Adelaide.  Immense holes in a light blue rock in the creek a few hundred yards north of this full of water and apparently very deep, an abundance immediately beyond in the creek, which appears to flow northward.  I have come rather a short journey today as the sheep and bullocks had no time to feed yesterday.  Very cloudy and sultry.  Lots of small fish in this creek, none yet seen longer than three inches; amongst them are a lot of fish about the same size or a little larger, with fine vertical black stripes commencing at the shoulder and a black tip to lower part of tail—­body generally lighter-coloured than the other fish.

Sunday, April 27.

Camp 44, Williams Creek.  Mild night, not so like rain this morning.  Bearing of 355 degrees crossing this creek at an acute angle, crossed this creek again at three miles, crossed again at five miles—­creek close on the right; at six and one-eighth miles crossed a deep tributary at its junction—­heavy timber, plenty of water.  Williams Creek still close on the right full of spinifex on the slopes and short rough abrupt creeks; bad travelling; at seven and three-quarter miles commenced travelling in bed of the creek, west side, till eight and three-quarter miles, the creek bearing off more to the east.  At present I keep on my course of 355 degrees, over good country the latter part of course.  At thirteen miles came to and crossed a splendid creek with abundance of water and lots of fish coming from the hills west and flowing apparently east.  This creek I have called the Elder after Thomas Elder, Esquire, of Adelaide.