Natives near the camp.

March 19.

This morning was also ushered in with torrents of rain, chequered by occasional intervals of fine weather of perhaps half an hour’s duration.  Another sheep died and several of the ponies were very unwell.  The men who had been shifting the tethers of the horses at noon returned with the intelligence that, during the period of their absence from the encampment, a party of natives must have been close to us, watching our movements, for that when they went out there were no traces of them near the camp, which were now discernible in nearly every direction around us.

I selected the best bushman of my party and went off to see whether anything was to be apprehended from these natives, but I soon found that the report was in some degree exaggerated.  Some natives had crept up to within about a hundred yards of us, probably with the intention of making a reconnaissance, and of then framing their future plans; they had however been disturbed by the return of the men from the horses, and then made off.  It appears that they had approached us by walking up a stream of water so as to conceal their trail, and then turned out of the stream up its right bank; and although they had carefully trod in one another’s foot-marks, so as to conceal their number, we could make out the traces of at least six or seven different men, which we followed to the spot where, whilst creeping about to watch us, they had been disturbed.  From this point these children of the bush had disappeared, as it were by magic:  not a twig was broken, not a stone was turned, and we could not perceive that the heavy drops of rain had been shaken from a single blade of grass.  We made wide casts in different directions but, not being able to hit on their trail, I returned to the tents, more than ever convinced of the necessity of being constantly on the watch against beings who were often near us when we least dreamt of their presence, and, in an unguarded moment, might so easily surprise and spear some of the party.

Appearance of the country.

The rain continued to fall throughout the 20th, rendering our condition every hour worse.  Towards noon however the weather cleared a little, and in a fine interval I mounted a high range of basaltic hills which lay about a mile and a half to the westward.  These hills were the highest which I had yet ascended; and from them I gained a very extensive view.  The farthest extremity of the sandstone range which lay to the southward and eastward did not appear to be more than ten or twelve miles distant.  Behind this barren range there again rose the conical tops of basaltic hills, clothed in the greenest grass; and beyond these, in the far south-east, I made out with the telescope a range of very lofty hills, which, stretching their heads high into the clouds, left me without means of forming any idea of their elevation: