We returned again to the Gorge of Tarns, as Mr. Tietkens very tritely remarked, sadder but wiser men.  Our position here is by no means enviable, for although there is plenty of permanent water in this range, it appears to be surrounded by such extensive deserts that advance or retreat is equally difficult, as now I had no water in tanks or otherwise between this and Fort Mueller, and not a horse might ever reach that goal.  I am again seated under the splashing fountain that falls from the rocks above, sheltered by the sunless caverns of this Gorge of Tarns, with a limpid liquid basin of the purest water at my feet, sheltered from the heated atmosphere which almost melts the rocks and sand of the country surrounding us—­sitting as I may well declare in the shadow of a great rock in a weary land, but we cannot shut out from the mind the perils we have endured, the perils we may yet have to endure.  For the present our wants and those of our gallant horses are supplied, but to the traveller in such a wilderness, when he once turns his back upon a water, the ever-recurring question presents itself, of when and where shall I obtain more?  The explorer is necessarily insatiable for water; no quantity can satisfy him, for he requires it always and in every place.  Life for water he will at any moment give, for water cannot be done without.  Thermometer in outer shade 106 degrees; in the caverns 98 degrees.

We shall have to remain here for a few days.  The bare rocks in this glen and the walls of stone that form it become so heated during the day that the nights passed in it are most oppressive.  The rocks have not time to cool before the sun is upon them again, and at evening, when descending from the caves, we find the thermometer actually rises in the night air.  In the caves during to-day it was 98 degrees, and at eight o’clock at night outside it was 101 degrees.  We are pestered here terribly by flies, but not plagued by either ants or mosquitoes.  This evening Gibson and Jimmy shot three wallabies.  This range swarms also with pigeons in every gorge and glen, and they come in clouds at night and morning for water.  Unfortunately nearly all our sporting ammunition is gone, though I have a good supply of defensive.  To-day the thermometer in the caves was only 88 degrees while in the outside shade 104 degrees, the cause being hot winds from the south-east.  While here we shod the most tender-footed of our horses.  There was a good deal of thunder and lightning.  The daytime in this gorge is less oppressive than the night.  The sun does not appear over the eastern hills until nearly nine o’clock, and it passes behind the western ones at about 4.15 p.m.  The horses cannot recover well here, the ground being too stony, and the grass and herbage too poor; therefore I shall retreat to the Pass of the Abencerrages and the pleasant encampment of Sladen Water.  One horse, Tommy, was still very bad, and had to be left on the road, not from want of water, but old age and