Flood re-crossed the creek on the morning of the 6th, when the bullocks completed a task of about 170 miles in eight days.

As I had determined on moving on the 7th, it became necessary to examine the drays, and I was vexed to find that they wanted as much repair as they had done at Flood’s Creek.  The men were occupied wedging them up, and greasing them on the 6th, and finished all but that of Lewis, the repair of which threw it late in the day on the 7th, before we proceeded on our journey.  Independently, however, of my anxiety on account of my officers, several of the men were indisposed, and I was glad to break up our camp and fix it in a healthier spot than this appeared to be.

We started at 5 p.m., but as we had only about eight miles to go, it was not a matter of much consequence.  We arrived at our destination at 10 p.m., but had some difficulty in finding the water, nor do I think we should have done so if we had not been guided to it by the hoarse and discordant notes of a bull-frog.

I had sent Mr. Stuart in the morning to some hills on our left, and Mr. Browne had ridden in the same direction to collect some seeds of a purple Hibiscus, and neither had joined the party when it reached the creek, as soon therefore as the cattle were unyoked, I fired a shot which they fortunately heard.  Our collection of natural history still continued scanty.  A very pretty tree, a new species of Grevillia, out of flower, however, and which I only concluded to be a Grevillia from its habit, and the appearance of its bark, had taken the place of the gum-trees on the creeks, and the jasmine was everywhere common, but, with the exception of a few solani and some papilionaceous plants, we had seen nothing either new or rare.

Of birds the most numerous were the new pigeon and the black-shouldered hawk; but there was a shrike that frequented the creeks which I should have noticed before.  This bird was about the size of a thrush, but had the large head and straight-hooked bill of its species; in colour it was a dirty brownish black, with a white bar across the wings.  Whilst we were staying at Flood’s Creek, one of these birds frequented the camp every morning, intimating his presence by a shrill whistle, and would remain for an hour trying to catch the tunes the men whistled to him.  His notes were clear, loud, metallic and yet soft; their variety was astonishing, and his powers of imitation wonderful; there was not a bird of the forest that he did not imitate so exactly as to deceive.  I would on no account allow this songster to be disturbed, and the consequence was that his rich note was the first thing heard at dawn of day, during the greater part of our residence in that neighbourhood.