better provided with water; and, passing to the left of Calvert’s Peak, over low basaltic ridges, I came to a creek with a shallow bed, winding between basaltic ridges to the north-east.  These ridges were lightly timbered, and covered with an abundance of dry grass:  dark-green patches of scrub raised our hopes from time to time, and quickened our pace; but in vain, for no water was to be found.  Fatigued and exhausted by thirst, both rider and horse wished for an early halt.  We stopped, therefore, and hobbled our horses; and, when I had spread my saddle, my head sank between its flaps, and I slept soundly until the cool night-air, and the brilliant moonlight, awoke me.  I found my poor companion, Mr. Calvert, suffering severely from thirst, more so indeed than I did; but I was unfortunately labouring under a most painful diarrhoea, which of itself exhausted my strength.  In the morning, to add to our distress, our horses were not to be found, and Mr. Calvert had a walk of four hours to get them:  the poor brutes had rambled away in search of water, but found none.  The scream of a cockatoo made me wish to continue our ride down the creek; but my companion was so completely exhausted that I resolved upon returning to the camp, but by a different route, passing to the east side of Scott’s and Roper’s Peaks.  We found sandstone ridges to the very foot of the peaks.  Although we passed many localities where water might have been expected, and travelled where three different rocks, domite, sandstone, and basalt, came in contact, and where springs are so frequently found, yet not a drop of water could we find.  In travelling over the hot plains our horses began to fail us; neither whip nor spur could accelerate their snail-like pace; they seemed to expect that every little shade of the scattered trees would prove a halting-place; and it was not without the greatest difficulty that we could induce them to pass on.  It was indeed distressingly hot:  with open mouths we tried to catch occasional puffs of a cooler air; our lips and tongue got parched, our voice became hoarse, and our speech unintelligible.  Both of us, but particularly my poor companion, were in the most deplorable state.  In order to ease my horse, I tried to walk; but, after a few paces.  I found it impossible; I was too much exhausted.  At this distressing moment, however, we crossed the tracks of horses and bullocks, and then we knew we were near the camp, the sight of which, a short time afterwards, was most welcome to us.

Jan. 29.—­Finding that one of the water-holes of the camp had dried up, and that the other was very muddy, we returned to larger water-holes two miles to the south-east.  After having done this, I sent Mr. Gilbert and Charley down the creek, to ascertain its course, and to see whether it would be practicable to skirt the highland of peak range to the westward.

Last night thunder-storms were gathering to the south-west, but they did not come up to us.  The night breeze is very strong and regular, and sets in invariably between a quarter and half-past eight o’clock; last night it was quite a gale, which I considered to be the indication of a change in the weather, and of rain.