‘November’ 21.—­The cattle were started as usual, but as ill-luck would have it, 13 of the horses were not to be found.  After waiting for them till four o’clock, all the packs and riding-saddles were packed on the remaining horses, and the party drove them on foot before them to the camp, at the lagoons, three miles on.  It was dark before they got there, and well into the second watch before the tents were pitched, and everything put straight.  The country continued the same as before described, a barren waste of tea-tree levels to the north, obliging them to keep along the river, although at right angles to their proper course. (Camp XXVIII.) Distance 3 miles W.

’November 22.—­The troubles and adventures of the party seemed to thicken at this point, where the cattle were detained, whilst the missing horses were being sought for.  Old Eulah had come in late the preceding night empty-handed, he had seen their tracks, but night coming on he was unable to follow them.  He was started away this morning in company with Peter to pick up and run the trail.  At two o’clock he returned with two, and reported that Peter was on the trail of the others.  They had evidently been disturbed by their friends the natives, for their tracks were split up, and those brought on had their hobbles broken.  At dusk Peter brought home three more, without being able to say where the others had got to.  During this time, Frank Jardine had a little adventure to himself; wishing to find a better run for the cattle, he started about noon, and rode down the river for about six miles.  There was no choice, the country was all of the same description, so he turned back in disgust, when, in crossing the head of a sandstone gully, he heard a yell, and looked round just in time to see a half a dozen spears come at him, and about a dozen natives around and painted, jumping about in great excitement.  Going forward a little, he got time to clear the lock of his rifle, from the oil rag which usually protected it.  He turned on his assailants, and sent a bullet amongst them; it hit a tree instead of a blackfellow, but as they still menaced him, his next shot was more successful, when seeing one of their number fall, the rest decamped.  It was now their turn to run, but before they could cross the bed of the river, which was dry, clear, and about 300 yards wide, he was able to get two good shots at short range.  They did not trouble him again that afternoon.  They dropped all their spears in the “stampede,” some of which, reed and jagged, were taken home as trophies.  They used no “wommerahs.”  Peter came in to camp at dark, with 3 horses, having no idea where the others had got to; there were 8 still away.