At twilight, on enquiring, as usual, if the horses had been tethered and spancelled, I was informed that seven had set off, and that one of the men, Worthington, who went after them, had not returned.  The weather had been so oppressive during the whole journey, that I determined on resting the cattle next day.  This I did not mention however to the men, but I ordered all the good bush hands to be off in search at daybreak.  The care of cattle, and particularly of horses on such journeys, requires great attention; to stand idle on a fine morning, unable to proceed, until by some fortunate chance, stray cattle or horses are discovered in a boundless forest, is like a calm on the line, irksome enough; but there is also the risk of losing the men sent in pursuit who, even after coming on the objects of their search, may be unable afterwards to find the camp, especially when there may be no watercourse to lead them to it.

December 7.

The weather still very sultry.  The horses were brought in at a quarter-past eight by Worthington, who had traced them up the valley to two miles above our former encampment.  The rich soil in this valley is nearly as deep as the bed of the rivulet, which is twenty feet lower than the surface; a substratum of gravel, similar to that in the bed of the watercourse, appears in the bank; the pebbles, consisting chiefly of trap-rock, seemed to be the water-worn debris of the Liverpool range.  The cattle and horses being at rest, we were occupied this day in making various observations with our instruments, trying the rate of the chronometer, etc.  A thundercloud and a little rain afforded some relief from the excessive heat of the atmosphere.  The night was very calm; but the mosquitoes were numerous and troublesome.

A squatter.

December 8.

A road or track, which we found about half a mile east from the camp, led us very directly, on the bearing of 335 degrees, to Loder’s station, distant about six miles from our encampment.  Here stood a tolerable house of slabs, with a good garden adjoining it, in charge of an old stockman and his equally aged wife.  This man was named by the blacks Longanay (Long Ned).* The station was situated on a fine running stream called the Cuerindie, and the state of the sheep and cattle about it proved the excellence of the pasture.  We passed the limits of the territory open to the selection of settlers, in crossing the Liverpool range; and the more remote country is not likely to come into the market soon.  Such stations as this of Loder were held therefore only by the right of pre-occupancy, which has been so generally recognised among the colonists themselves, that the houses, etc. of these stations are sometimes disposed of for valuable considerations, although the land is liable to be sold by the government.

(Footnote.  His wife, whom the natives had told me of as a white gin, was perhaps the only white woman then dwelling beyond the mountains.  She was enveloped in numerous flannel petticoats, and presented a singular contrast to the undraped slender native females, some of whom with children I saw about the place, and who appeared to be treated by her with great kindness.)