It was with distress that I lay down on my blankets that night, after what he had said.  I scarcely knew what to do.  I had yet a lot of horses heavily loaded with provisions; but to take them out into a waterless, desert country by myself, was impossible.  We only went a short distance—­to Bagot’s Creek, where I renewed my arguments.  Mr. Carmichael’s reply was, that he had made up his mind and nothing should alter it; the consequence was that with one companion I had, so to speak, discharged, and another who discharged himself, any further exploration was out of the question.  I had no other object now in view but to hasten my return to civilisation, in hopes of reorganising my expedition.  We were now in full retreat for the telegraph line; but as I still traversed a region previously unexplored, I may as well continue my narrative to the close.  Marzetti’s foal couldn’t travel, and had to be killed at Bagot’s Creek.

On Friday, the 8th November, the party, now silent, still moved under my directions.  We travelled over the same ground that Mr. Carmichael and I had formerly done, until we reached the Petermann in the Levi Range.  The natives and their pups had departed.  The hills approached this creek so close as to form a valley; there were several water-holes in the creek; we followed its course as far as the valley existed.  When the country opened, the creek spread out, and the water ceased to appear in its bed.  We kept moving all day; towards evening I saw some gum-trees under some hills two or three miles southwards, and as some smoke appeared above the hills, I knew that natives must have been there lately, and that water might be got there.  Accordingly, leaving Carmichael and Robinson to go on with the horses, I rode over, and found there was the channel of a small creek, which narrowed into a kind of glen the farther I penetrated.  The grass was burning on all the hillsides, and as I went still farther up, I could hear the voices of the natives, and I felt pretty sure of finding water.  I was, however, slightly anxious as to what reception I should get.  I soon saw a single native leisurely walking along in front of me with an iguana in his hand, taking it home for supper.  He carried several spears, a wommerah, and a shield, and had long curled locks hanging down his shoulders.  My horse’s nose nearly touched his back before he was aware of my presence, when, looking behind him, he gave a sudden start, held up his two hands, dropped his iguana and his spears, uttered a tremendous yell as a warning to his tribe, and bounded up the rocks in front of us like a wallaby.  I then passed under a eucalyptus-tree, in whose foliage two ancient warriors had hastily secreted themselves.  I stopped a second and looked up at them, they also looked at me; they presented a most ludicrous appearance.  A little farther on there were several rows of wurleys, and I could perceive the men urging the women and children away, as they doubtless supposed many more white men were