When we parted from our friends we only had a few horses left.  We reached the Charlotte Waters about twelve o’clock on July 13th, having been nearly a year absent from civilisation.  Our welcome here by my friend and namesake, Mr. Christopher Giles, was of the warmest, and he clothed and fed us like a young father.  He had also recovered and kept my old horse Cocky.  The whole of the establishment there, testified their pleasure at our return.  On our arrival at the Peake our reception by Mr. and Mrs. Blood at the telegraph station was most gratifying.  Mr. John Bagot also supplied us with many necessaries at his cattle-station.  The mail contractor had a light buggy here, and I obtained a seat and was driven by him as far as the Blinman Copper Mine, via Beltana, where I heard that my black boy Dick had died of influenza at a camp of the semi-civilised natives near a hill called by Eyre, Mount Northwest.  From the Blinman I took the regular mail coach and train nearly 300 miles to Adelaide.  Mr. Tietkens and Jimmy came behind and sold the remaining horses at the Blinman, where they also took the coach and joined me in Adelaide a week later.

I have now but a few concluding remarks to make; for my second expedition is at an end, and those of my readers who have followed my wanderings are perhaps as glad to arrive at the end as I was.  I may truly say that for nearly twelve months I had been the well-wrought slave not only of the sextant, the compass, and the pen, but of the shovel, the axe, and the needle also.  There had been a continual strain on brain and muscle.  The leader of such an expedition as this could not stand by and simply give orders for certain work to be performed; he must join in it, and with the good example of heart and hand assist and cheer those with whom he was associated.  To my friend and second, Mr. Tietkens, I was under great obligations, for I found him, as my readers will have seen, always ready and ever willing for the most arduous and disagreeable of our many undertakings.  My expedition had been unsuccessful in its main object, and my most sanguine hopes had been destroyed.  I knew at starting a great deal was expected from me, and if I had not fulfilled the hopes of my friends, I could only console them by the fact that I could not even fulfil my own.  But if it is conceded that I had done my devoir as an Australian explorer, then I am satisfied.  Nothing succeeds like success, but it is not in the power of man—­however he may deserve—­to command it.  Many trials and many bitter hours must the explorer of such a region experience.  The life of a man is to be held at no more than a moment’s purchase.  The slightest accident or want of judgment may instantly become the cause of death while engaged in such an enterprise, and it may be truly said we passed through a baptism worse indeed than that of fire—­the baptism of no water.  That I should ever again take the field is more than I would undertake to say:—­