which I hoped we might again be able to advance more expeditiously.  Upon making this proposal to Wylie, he was quite delighted at the idea, and told me emphatically that he would sit up and eat the whole night.  Our decision arrived at, the sentence was soon executed.  The poor animal was shot, and Wylie and myself were soon busily employed in skinning him.  Leaving me to continue this operation, Wylie made a fire close to the carcase, and as soon as he could get at a piece of the flesh he commenced roasting some, and continued alternately, eating, working and cooking.  After cutting off about 100 pounds of the best of the meat, and hanging it in strips upon the trees until our departure, I handed over to Wylie the residue of the carcase, feet, entrails, flesh, skeleton, and all, to cook and consume as he pleased, whilst we were in the neighbourhood.  Before dark he had made an oven, and roasted about twenty pounds, to feast upon during the night.  The evening set in stormy, and threatened heavy rain, but a few drops only fell.  The wind then rose very high, and raged fiercely from the south-west.  At midnight it lulled, and the night became intensely cold and frosty, and both Wylie and myself suffered severely, we could only get small sticks for our fire, which burned out in a few minutes, and required so frequently renewing, that we were obliged to give it up in despair, and bear the cold in the best way we could.  Wylie, during the night, made a sad and dismal groaning, and complained of being very ill, from pain in his throat, the effect he said of having to work too hard.  I did not find that his indisposition interfered very greatly with his appetite, for nearly every time I awoke during the night, I found him up and gnawing away at his meat, he was literally fulfilling the promise he had made me in the evening, “By and bye, you see, Massa, me ‘pta’ (eat) all night.”

May 9.—­The day was cold and cloudy, and we remained in camp to rest the horses, and diminish the weight of meat, which was greater than our horses could well carry in their present state.  On getting up the horses to water them at noon, I was grieved to find the foal of my favourite mare (which died on the 28th March) missing; how we had lost it I could not make out, but as its tracks were not any where visible near the camp, it was evident that it had never come there at all.  In leaving our last halting place my time and attention had been so taken up with getting the weak horse along, that I had left it entirely to Wylie to bring up the others, and had neglected my usual precaution of counting to see if all were there before we moved away.  The little creature must have been lying down behind the sand-hills asleep, when we left, or otherwise it would never have remained behind the others.  Being very desirous not to lose this foal, which had now accompanied me so far and got through all the worst difficulties, I saddled the strongest of the horses, and mounting