lived six hours longer, when he began to bark, as if raving, and to move his legs slightly, as dogs do when dreaming.  It seemed that he died of inflammation of the brain.  If we become naturally fond of animals which share with us the comforts of life, and become the cheerful companions of our leisure hours, our attachment becomes still greater when they not only share in our sufferings, but aid greatly to alleviate them.  The little world of animated beings, with which we moved on, was constantly before our eyes; and each individual the constant object of our attention.  We became so familiar with every one of them, that the slightest change in their walk, or in their looks was readily observed; and the state of their health anxiously interpreted.  Every bullock, every horse, had its peculiar character, its well defined individuality, which formed the frequent topic of our conversation, in which we all most willingly joined, because every one was equally interested.  My readers will, therefore, easily understand my deep distress when I saw myself, on recent occasions, compelled to kill two of our favourite bullocks long before their time; and when our poor dog died, which we all had fondly hoped to bring to the end of our journey.  Brown had, either by accident, or influenced by an unconscious feeling of melancholy, fallen into the habit of almost constantly whistling and humming the soldier’s death march, which had such a singularly depressing effect on my feelings, that I was frequently constrained to request him to change his tune.

Oct. 17.—­We travelled about eighteen miles N. N. W. over an undulating country, in which Cypress-pine thickets alternated with scrubby stringy-bark forest, and some tea-tree flats.  After seven miles, we crossed a large dry creek, which went to the eastward; and, eight miles further, we entered upon a fine box-flat, with hills to the north and north-west.  We followed a very promising Pandanus creek, in which the presence of Typha (flag, or bulrush) and a new species of Sesbania indicated the recent presence of water.  Mr. Roper having ascended one of the hills, and seen a green valley with a rich vegetation about three miles to the northward, we in consequence left the creek, which turned to the eastward; and, after passing several miles of most wretched scrub, came into an open country, with scattered groves of trees.  As the sun was setting, I resolved upon encamping in an open plain, although without water, except what we carried in our large stew-pot.  Charley, who had been sent forward, had not yet joined us; I, therefore, ordered two guns to be fired, to let him know where we were; he immediately answered us from a short distance, where he lighted up a cheerful fire.  After some time, during which misfortune and carelessness had played us the trick of upsetting our waterpot, Charley arrived with the welcome news that he had found some water-holes in a small creek; we therefore, at moonrise, again saddled our tired animals, and repaired thither.