when they fired on him, to save themselves from being caught in their act of plunder.  That either of the two should have contemplated the committal of a wilful, barbarous, cold-blooded murder, I cannot bring myself to believe—­no object was to be attained by it; and the fact of the overseer having been pierced through the breast, and many yards in advance of where he had been sleeping, in a direction towards the sleeping-place of the natives, clearly indicated that it was not until he had arisen from his sleep, and had been closely pressing upon them, that they had fired the fatal shot.  Such appeared to me to be the most plausible and rational explanation of this melancholy affair—­I would willingly believe it to be the true one.

Wylie and I moved on in the evening, with the horses for two miles, and again pitched our camp among the sand-drifts, at a place where the natives were in the habit of digging wells for water, and where we procured it at a very moderate depth below the surface.  Pigeons were here in great numbers, and Wylie tried several times with the rifle to shoot them, but only killed one, the grooved barrel not being adapted for throwing shot with effect.

At midnight we arose and moved onwards, following along the beach.  I intended to have made a long stage, as I no longer had any fears about not finding water; but at nine miles one of the horses knocked up, and could proceed no farther, I was compelled, therefore, to turn in among the sand-drifts, and halt at five in the morning of the 7th.  We were again fortunate in procuring water by digging only two feet under the sand-hills, which were here very high, and were a continuation of those in which we had first found water on the 3rd.  In the afternoon, I again tried to advance upon our journey, but after proceeding only four miles, the jaded horse was again unable to move further, and there was no alternative but to halt and search for water.  This was found among the sand-hills, but we could procure nothing but the coarse grass growing upon the drifts for the animals to eat.

May 8.—­About two hours before daylight, rain began to fall, and continued steadily though lightly for three hours, so that enough had fallen to deposit water in the ledges or holes of the rocks.  The day was wild and stormy, and we did not start until late.  Even then we could only get the tired horse along for three miles, and were again compelled to halt.  Water was still procured, by digging under the sand-hills, but we had to sink much deeper than we had lately found occasion to do.  It was now plain, that the tired horse would never be able to keep pace with the others, and that we must either abandon him, or proceed at a rate too slow for the present state of our commissariat.  Taking all things into consideration, it appeared to me that it would be better to kill him at once for food, and then remain here in camp for a time, living upon the flesh, whilst the other horses were recruiting, after