Upon the morning after my return from Paring, all the horses were away—­indeed, as I have said before, there was nothing for them to eat at this place, and they always rambled as far as they could possibly go from the camp to get away from the camels, although those more sensible animals were, so to say, in clover.  We had three young black fellows and old Jimmy, and it was the young ones’ duty to look after and get the horses, while old Jimmy had the easier employment of taking care of the camels.  This morning, two of the young blacks were sent out very early for the horses, whilst the other and old Jimmy remained to do anything that might be required at the camp.  The morning was hot and oppressive, we sat as comfortably as we could in the shade of our awning; by twelve o’clock no signs of black boys or horses had made their appearance.  At one o’clock we had dinner, and gave old Jimmy and his mate theirs.  I noticed that the younger black left the camp with a bit of a bundle under his shirt and a canvas water-bag; I and some of the others watched whither he went, and to our surprise we found that he was taking food and water to the other two boys, who should have been away after the horses, but were quietly encamped under a big bush within a quarter of a mile of us and had never been after the horses at all.  Of course we were very indignant, and were going to punish them with a good thrashing, when one of them informed us that it was no use our hammering them, for they could not go for the horses because they were too much afraid of the Cockata blacks, and unless we sent old Jimmy or a white man they would not go out of sight of the camp.  This showed the state of superstition and fear in which these people live.  Indeed, I believe if the whole Fowler’s Bay tribes were all encamped together in one mob round their own fires, in their own country, and any one ran into the camp and shouted “Cockata,” it would cause a stampede among them immediately.  It was very annoying to think that the horses had got so many hours’ start away from the camp, and the only thing I could do was to send a white man, and Jimmy, with these boys to find the absent animals.  Mr. Roberts volunteered, and had to camp away from water, not returning until late the following day, with only about a third of the mob.  The next day all were found but three—­one was a police horse of Mr. Richards’s, which was never seen after, and two colts of mine which found their way back to, and were eventually recovered at, Fowler’s Bay by Mr. Roberts.  While encamped here we found Youldeh to be a fearful place, the ants, flies, and heat being each intolerable.  We were at the bottom of a sandy funnel, into which the fiery beams of the sun were poured in burning rays, and the radiation of heat from the sandy country around made it all the hotter.  Not a breath of air could be had as we lay or sat panting in the shade we had erected with our tarpaulins.  There was no view for more than a hundred yards anywhere, unless one climbed