At about a mile we broke through the forest, and entered an open earthy plain, such as I believe man never before crossed.  Subject to be laid under water by the creek we had just left, and to the effects of an almost vertical sun, its surface was absolutely so rent and torn by solar heat, that there was scarcely room for the horses to tread, and they kept constantly slipping their hind feet into chasms from eight to ten feet deep, into which the earth fell with a hollow rumbling sound, as if into a grave.  The poor horse in the cart had a sad task, and it surprised me, how we all at length got safely over the plain, which was between five and six miles in breadth, but we managed it, and at that distance found ourselves on the banks of another creek, in the bed of which there was plenty of grass but no water.  I was however exceedingly anxious to give the horses a day’s rest; for several of them were seriously griped, and had either taken something that disagreed with them, or were beginning to suffer from constant work and irregularity of food.  Mr. Browne too was unwell and Lewis complaining, so that it was advisable to indulge ourselves if possible.  I therefore determined to trace the creek downwards, in the hope of finding water, and at a mile came upon a shallow pond where I gladly halted, for by this time several of the horses had swollen to a great size, and were evidently in much pain.

After arranging the little bivouac our attention was turned to the horses, and Mr. Browne found it necessary to bleed Flood’s horse, to allay the inflammatory symptoms that were upon him.  Still however he got worse, and no remedy we had in our power to apply seemed to do him good.  The poor animal threw himself down violently on the ground, and bruised himself all over, so that we were obliged to fasten him up, but as there appeared to be no fear of his wandering, at sunset he was allowed to be loose.  He remained near me for the greater part of the night, and was last seen close to where I was lying, but in the morning was no where to be found, and although we searched for a whole day, and made extensive sweeps to get on his track we never saw him more, and concluded he had died under some bush.  This was the horse we recovered on the Murray, the same that had escaped from the government paddock in Adelaide.  The other animals had in some measure recovered, and the additional day of rest they got while we were searching for Flood’s horse, enabled me to resume my journey on the last day of August.  Our course being one of 335 degrees to the west of north, or nearly N.N.W., and that of the sandy ridges being 340 degrees we necessarily crossed them at a very acute angle, and the horses suffered a good deal.  In the afternoon we travelled over large bare plains, of a most difficult and distressing kind, the ground absolutely yawning underneath us, perfectly destitute of vegetation, and denuded of timber, excepting here and there, where a stunted box-tree