Having decided upon this plan we set to work and made a strong high yard of such shrubs as we could find, and in this we shut up the sheep.  I then wrote a note for the overseer, directing him to bury the loads of the horses, and hastening on with the animals alone endeavour to save their lives.  To attract attention I raised a long stick above the sheep-yard, and tied to it a red handkerchief, which could be seen a long way off.  At one we again proceeded, and were able to advance more rapidly than we could whilst the sheep were with us.  In a few miles we came to a well-beaten native road, and again our hopes were raised of speedily terminating the anxiety and suspense we were in.  Following the road for ten miles it conducted us to where the cliffs receded a little from the sea, leaving a small barren valley between them and the ocean, of low, sandy ground; the road ceased here at a deep rocky gorge of the cliffs, where there was a breach leading down to the valley.  There were several deep holes among the rocks where water would be procurable after rains, but they were now all dry.  The state of mind in which we passed on may be better imagined than described.  We had now been four days without a drop of water for our horses, and we had no longer any for ourselves, whilst there appeared as little probability of our shortly procuring it as there had been two days ago.  A break, it is true, had occurred in the line of the cliffs, but this appeared of a very temporary character, for we could see beyond them the valley again abutting upon the ocean.

At dark we were fifteen miles from where we left the sheep, and were again upon a native pathway, which we twice tried to follow down the steep and rugged slopes of the table land into the valley below.  We were only, however, fagging our poor horses and bewildering ourselves to no purpose, for we invariably lost all track at the bottom, and I at last became convinced that it was useless to try and trace the natives’ roadway further, since it always appeared to stop at rocky holes where there was no water now.  Keeping, therefore, the high ground, we travelled near the top of the cliffs, bounding the sandy valley, but here again a new obstacle impeded our progress.  The country, which had heretofore been tolerably open was now become very scrubby, and we found it almost impossible either to keep a straight course, or to make any progress through it in the dark.  Still we kept perseveringly onwards, leading our horses and forcing our way through in the best way we could.  It was, however, all in vain; we made so little headway, and were so completely exhausting the little strength we had left, that I felt compelled to desist.  The poor boy was quite worn out, and could scarcely move.  I was myself but little better, and we were both suffering from a parching thirst; under such obstacles labour and perseverance were but thrown away, and I determined to await the day-light.  After tying up the horses the boy lay down, and was