For twelve miles below the salt lagoon there is not a blade of grass either in the bed of the creek or on the neighbouring flats, the soil of both being a stiff cold clay.  We passed this ungenial line, therefore, and encamped near a fine pool of water, where both our own wants and those of our horses, as far as feed and water went, were abundantly supplied.

In going along one of the flats, before we discovered the creek, Mr. Browne and I had chased a Dipus into a hollow log, and there secured it.  This pretty animal we put into a box; but as it appeared to eat but little grass, we gave it some small birds, which it always devoured at night.  Our dogs had killed one on the banks of the Darling, but had so mutilated it, that we could not preserve it.  We hoped, however, to keep this animal alive, and up to the present time there was every chance of our doing so.  It was an exceedingly pretty animal, of a light grey colour, having a long tail, feathered at the end, insectivorous, and not marsupial.  On the 16th we turned from the creek to the south, and passed down the long flat up which we had previously come.  On the following day we passed several of the hollows scraped by the natives, and in one of them found a little water, that must have accumulated in it from the drizzly showers that fell on the night of the 8th, and which might have been heavier here than with us.  On the 19th we arrived at the creek where Flood’s horse was lost, but could not make out any track to betray that he had been to water, and as there was not enough remaining in the pond for our use, we crossed the plain, over which we had had so much difficulty in travelling, and halted for a short time at the native well, out of which numbers of birds flew as we approached.  From the Box-tree Forest we pushed on down the polygonum flat, where we had seen the native woman who had secreted herself in the bush.  A whole family was now in the same place, but an old man only approached us.  We were, indeed, passing, when he called to us, expressly for the purpose of telling us that the horse (Flood’s) had gone away to the eastward.  This native came out of his way, and evidently under considerable alarm, to tell us this, and to point out the direction in which he had gone, Our stock of presents being pretty nearly exhausted, Mr. Browne, with his characteristic good nature, gave him a striped handkerchief, with which he was much pleased.  As it was evident the poor horse had kept along the edge of the Desert, and as he was a wandering brute, not caring for companions, it was uncertain to what distance he had rambled, I did not, therefore, lose time by attempting to recover him.  We were all of us sure that he would not face the Stony Desert, but he may still be alive, and wandering over that sterile country.  We stopped for the night on the long channel near the sandy rise where we had before rested, about ten miles short of our camp, and the trees on the muddy plain; and having