the eastwards, when every hope and wish I had was to go in exactly the opposite direction, and I could only console myself with the thought that I was going to the east to get to the west at last.  I have great hopes that if I can once set my foot upon Mount Olga, my route to the west may be unimpeded.  I had not seen all the horses together for some time, and when they were mustered this morning, I found they had all greatly improved in condition, and almost the fattest among them was the little mare that had foaled at Mount Udor.  Marzetti’s mare looked very well also.

It was past midday when we turned our backs upon Tempe’s Vale.  At the five-mile creek we got the two lame horses, and reached King’s Creek somewhat late in the afternoon.  As we neared it, we saw several natives’ smokes, and immediately the whole region seemed alive with aborigines, men, women, and children running down from the highest points of the mountain to join the tribe below, where they all congregated.  The yelling, howling, shrieking, and gesticulating they kept up was, to say the least, annoying.  When we began to unpack the horses, they crowded closer round us, carrying their knotted sticks, long spears, and other fighting implements.  I did not notice any boomerangs among them, and I did not request them to send for any.  They were growing very troublesome, and evidently meant mischief.  I rode towards a mob of them and cracked my whip, which had no effect in dispersing them.  They made a sudden pause, and then gave a sudden shout or howl.  It seemed as if they knew, or had heard something, of white men’s ways, for when I unstrapped my rifle, and holding it up, warning them away, to my great astonishment they departed; they probably wanted to find out if we possessed such things, and I trust they were satisfied, for they gave us up apparently as a bad lot.

It appeared the exertion of travelling had improved the go of the lame horses, so I took them along with the others in the morning; I did not like the idea of leaving them anywhere on this range, as the natives would certainly spear, and probably eat them.  We got them along to Stokes’s Creek, and encamped at the swimming rock-hole.

After our frugal supper a circumstance occurred which completely put an end to my expedition.  Mr. Carmichael informed me that he had made up his mind not to continue in the field any longer, for as Alec Robinson was going away, he should do so too.  Of course I could not control him; he was a volunteer, and had contributed towards the expenses of the expedition.  We had never fallen out, and I thought he was as ardent in the cause of exploration as I was, so that when he informed me of his resolve it came upon me as a complete surprise.  My arguments were all in vain; in vain I showed how, with the stock of provisions we had, we might keep the field for months.  I even offered to retreat to the Finke, so that we should not have such arduous work for want of water, but it was all useless.