About sunset the wind shifted to the west, a cloud passed over us, and we had heavy thunder; but a few drops of rain only fell.  They partially cooled the temperature, and the night was less oppressive than the day had been.  We had now a journey of 86 miles before us:  to its results I looked with great anxiety and doubt.  I took every precaution to fortify the horses, and again reduced the loads, keeping barely a supply of flour for a day or two.  Before dawn we were up, and drained the last drop of water, if so it could be called, out of the little trench we had made, and reserving a gallon for the first horse that should fall, divided the residue among them.  Just as the morning was breaking, we left the creek, and travelled for 36 miles.  I then halted until the moon should rise, and was glad to see that the horses stood it well.  At seven we resumed the journey, and got on tolerably well until midnight, when poor Bawley, my favourite horse, fell; but we got him up again, and abandoning his saddle, proceeded onwards.  At a mile, however, he again fell, when I stopped, and the water revived him.  I now hoped he would struggle on, but in about an hour he again fell.  I was exceedingly fond of this poor animal, and intended to have purchased him at the sale of the remnants of the expedition, as a present to my wife.  We sat down and lit a fire by him, but he seemed fairly worn out.  I then determined to ride on to the Depot, and if Mr. Browne should still be there, to send a dray with water to the relief of the men.  I told them, therefore, to come slowly on, and with Mr. Stuart pushed for the camp.  We reached the plain just as the sun was descending, without having dismounted from our horses for more than fifteen hours, and as we rode down the embankment into it, looked around for the cattle, but none were to be seen.  We looked towards the little sandy mound on which the tents had stood, but no white object there met our eye; we rode slowly up to the stockade, and found it silent and deserted.  I was quite sure that Mr. Browne had had urgent reasons for retiring.  I had indeed anticipated the measure:  I hardly hoped to find him at the Fort, and had given him instructions on the subject of his removal, yet a sickening feeling came over me when I saw that he was really gone; not on my own account, for, with the bitter feelings of disappointment with which I was returning home, I could calmly have laid my head on that desert, never to raise it again.  The feeling was natural, and had no mixture whatever of reproach towards my excellent companion.

We dismounted and led our horses down to water before I went to the tree under which I had directed Mr. Browne to deposit a letter for me.  A good deal of water still remained in the channel, but nevertheless a large pit had been dug in it as I had desired.  I did not drink, nor did Mr. Stuart, the surface of the water was quite green, and the water itself was of a red colour, but I believe we were both thinking