May 13.—­After breakfast, Wylie said he thought he could catch some bandicoots, by firing the scrub near the sand-hills, and went out for an hour or two to try, but came back as he went.  During his absence, I was employed in repairing my only two pair of socks now left, which were sadly dilapidated, but of which I was obliged to be very careful, as they were the only security I had against getting lame.  In the afternoon I walked down to the beach, to try to spear sting-ray, but the sea was rough, and I saw none.  In my ramble, I found plenty of the beautiful white clematis, so common both to the north and south of Sydney.

May 14.—­I was again seized with illness, though I had been particularly careful in the quantity of flesh which I had used.  For many hours I suffered most excruciating pains; and after the violence of the attack was over, I was left very weak, and incapable of exertion.  Wylie was also affected.  It was evident that the food we were now living upon, was not wholesome or nutritious.  Day after day we felt ourselves getting weaker and more relaxed, whilst the least change of weather, or the slightest degree of cold, was most painfully felt by both of us.  What we were to do in the wet weather, which might daily be expected, I knew not, suffering as we did from the frosts and dews only.  In the state we now were in, I do not think that we could have survived many days’ exposure to wet.

May 15.—­I intended to have proceeded early on our journey this morning, but was so ill again, that for some hours I could not stir.  The boy was similarly situated.  About ten we got a little better, and packing up our things, moved away, but had scarcely gone more than a couple of miles along the beach, when I discovered that the horse-hobbles had been left behind.  It was Wylie’s duty always to take these off, and strap them round the horses necks, whilst I was arranging the saddles, and fixing on them our arms, provisions, etc.; he had forgotten to do this, and had left them lying on the ground.  As we could not possibly do without the hobbles, I sent Wylie back for them, telling him I would drive on the horses slowly for a few miles, and then halt to wait for him.

After proceeding eleven miles along the coast, I halted, and Wylie came up a little before dark, bringing the hobbles with him.  We were both very hungry; and as we had suffered so much lately from eating the horse flesh, we indulged to-night in a piece of bread, and a spoonful of flour boiled into a paste, an extravagance which I knew we should have to make up for by and bye.  I had dug for water, and procured it at a depth of five feet; but it was too brackish either to drink, or give to our horses; we used it, however, in boiling up our flour into paste.  The afternoon was exceedingly dark and stormy looking, but only a few light showers fell.  The night then set in cold, with a heavy dew.