for no more rain had fallen here than at any of the other hills in the neighbourhood, nor is this one any higher or different from the others which I visited, except that this one had a little water and all the rest none.  In gratitude therefore to this hill I have called it Mount Udor.  Mount Udor was the only spot where water was to be found in this abominable region, and when I left it the udor had departed also.  I got two of my riding-horses shod to-day, as the country I intended to travel over is about half stones and half scrub.  I have marked a eucalyptus or gum-tree in this gully close to the foot of the rock where I found the water [EG/21], as this is my twenty-first camp from Chambers’ Pillar.  My position here is in latitude 23 degrees 14’, longitude 130 degrees 55’, and variation 3 degrees east nearly.  I could not start to-day as the newly shod horses are so tender-footed that they seem to go worse in their shoes; they may be better to-morrow.  The water still holds out.  The camp is in a confined gully, and warm, though it is comparatively a cool day.  The grass here is very poor, and the horses wander a great deal to look for feed.  Four of them could not be found in the morning.  A slight thunderstorm passed over in the night, with a sprinkling of rain for nearly an hour, but not sufficient fell to damp a pocket-handkerchief.  It was, however, quite sufficient to damp my hopes of a good fall.  The flies are very numerous here and troublesome.  After watering my two horses I started away by myself for the ranges out west.  I went on our old tracks as far as they went, then I visited some other hills on my line of march.  As usual, the country alternated between open stones at the foot of the hills and dense scrubs beyond.  I thought one of the beds of scrubs I got into the densest I had ever seen, it was actually impenetrable without cutting one’s way, and I had to turn around and about in all directions.  I had the greatest difficulty to get the horse I was leading to come on at all; I had no power over him whatever.  I could not use either a whip or a stick, and he dragged so much that he nearly pulled me out of my saddle, so that I could hardly tell which way I was going, and it was extremely difficult to keep anything like a straight course.  Night overtook me, and I had to encamp in the scrubs, having travelled nearly forty miles.  A few drops of rain fell; it may have benefited the horses, but to me it was a nuisance.  I was up, off my sandy couch early enough, but had to wait for daylight before I could get the horses; they had wandered away for miles back towards the camp, and I had the same difficulties over again when getting them back to where the saddles were.  In seven or eight miles after starting I got out of the scrubs.  At the foot of the mountain for which I was steering there was a little creek or gully, with some eucalypts where I struck it.  It was, as all the others had been, scrubby, rocky, and dry.  I left the horses and ascended to the