a long sweep to the northward.  As, however, we were equally unintelligible to each other, and he did not appear to be very communicative, I mounted my cream-coloured horse, and left him staring at me in silence until I was out of sight.  We encamped at noon, under two wide-spreading Sarcocephalus trees, whose grateful shade offered us a shelter from the scorching sun.  But, as the sun got low, the shades of the oval crown of the trees drew rapidly off, and we had to lean against the shady side of the butt to obtain relief from the heat, which had so enervating an effect upon us that the slightest exertion was painful.  After sunset, however, in the comparative coolness of the evening, our animal spirits revived; and it was only during that part of the day, and in the early morning before sunrise, that I felt inclined to attend to any business that required much bodily exertion.  It was a great enjoyment indeed to lie devoid of any covering on our couch, and watch the fading tints of sunset.  The usual, and therefore expected, night breeze did not set in; but, about half-past 10 o’clock P.M., there was a slight stir in the atmosphere, accompanied with a sense of moisture, as if a distant thunder-storm had occurred, and interrupted the usual progress of the breeze.

Nov. 4.—­We travelled about seven miles, north-west by north, to lat. 13 degrees 56 minutes 46 seconds.  After following the creek about a mile, it turned so far to the westward that I left it, and with much difficulty ascended the ranges to the northward:  from their highest elevation, I saw that a high range, trending from south-east to north-west, bounded the valley of the creek I had left; another fine range was seen to the eastward.  Following a gully, we descended into the valley of a creek flowing to the southward, and which probably joined the creek I had left below the place of our last encampment.  In the lower part of the gully, we came upon some fine Nymphaea ponds and springs surrounded by ferns.  The whole valley, though narrow, was beautifully grassed.  Trichodesma, Grewia, Crinum, and the trefoil of the Suttor, grew on the flats; the apple-gum, rusty-gum, the mountain Acacia and Fusanus, the last in blossom, grew on the ridges.

The rock was a baked sandstone; in the pebbles of the creek I found the impressions of bivalves (one ribbed like Cardium).

Our bullocks had become so foot-sore, and were so oppressed by the excessive heat, that it was with the greatest difficulty we could prevent them from rushing into the water with their loads.  One of them—­that which carried the remainder of my botanical collection—­watched his opportunity, and plunged into a deep pond, where he was quietly swimming about and enjoying himself, whilst I was almost crying with vexation at seeing all my plants thoroughly soaked.