December 2.—­We had not moved far upon our return, when one of our most valuable dray-horses became completely overdone with fatigue, and I was obliged to take it out of the team and put in a riding horse, to try, if possible, to reach the plains where the grass was.  We just got to the borders of this open patch of country, when the poor animal (a mare) could not be got a yard farther, and we were compelled to halt and decide upon what was best to be done.  The water in the cask was nearly all consumed, the mare could not stir, and the other horses were very weak, so that no time was to be lost; I immediately decided upon leaving the man to take care of the mare and the dray, whilst I and the native boy took the other horses back for more water; having measured out to the man, water amounting to a quart per day, during our contemplated absence, I gave all that was left, consisting of about half a bucket full, to the mare, and then accompanied by the boy, pushed steadily back towards the water at the sand hills, distant about twenty-five miles.  At dark we arrived there, but the sand had fallen in, and we had to labour hard to clear out the hole again; it was eleven o’clock at night before we could get the horses watered, and we then had to take them a mile and a half before we could get any grass for them.  Returning from this duty, we had to collect and carry on our backs for more than a mile, a few bundles of sticks and bushes, to make a little fire for ourselves, near the water, the night being intensely cold.  It was past two o’clock in the morning before we could lay down, and then, tired and harassed as we were, it was too cold and damp for us to rest.

December 3.—­The scorching rays of the morning sun awoke us early, weary and unrefreshed, we had no trees to shade us, and were obliged to get up.  After looking at the well, and congratulating ourselves upon its not having fallen in, we set off to look for the horses, they had wandered away in search of food, causing us a long and tiresome walk over the sand-hills in the sun, before we could find them; having at last got them and driven them to where the water was, we were chagrined to find that during our absence the well had again fallen in, and we had the labour of clearing it out to go through again.

The day was excessively oppressive, with a hot parching wind, and both we and the horses drank incessantly.  Towards night we took the horses away to the grass, and remained near them ourselves for the sake of the firewood, which was there more abundant.

We had thunder towards evening, and a few dops of rain fell, but not sufficient to moderate the temperature, the heat continuing as oppressive as before.

December 4.—­After watering the horses, we took ten gallons upon a pack-horse, and proceeded on our return to the man we had left; the state in which our own horses were, having made it absolutely necessary to give them the day’s rest they had yesterday enjoyed.  We arrived about five in the afternoon, at the little plain where we had left the man; he was anxiously looking out for us, having just finished his last quart of water.  The poor mare looked very weak and wretched, but after giving her at intervals, eight gallons of water, she fed a little, and I fully hoped we should succeed in saving her life.  No natives had been seen during our absence.