26th.—­Mr. Burke and King remain at home cleaning and pounding seed; they are both getting weaker every day; the cold plays the deuce with us, from the small amount of clothing we have:  my wardrobe consists of a wide-awake, a merino shirt, a regatta shirt without sleeves, the remains of a pair of flannel trousers, two pairs of socks in rags, and a waistcoat, of which I have managed to keep the pockets together.  The others are no better off.  Besides these, we have between us, for bedding, two small camel pads, some horse-hair, two or three little bits of rag, and pieces of oil-cloth saved from the fire.

The day turned out nice and warm.

Wednesday, 27th June, 1861.—­Calm night; sky overcast with hazy cumulostratus clouds; an easterly breeze sprung up towards morning, making the air much colder.  After sunrise there were indications of a clearing up of the sky, but it soon clouded in again, the upper current continuing to move in an easterly direction, whilst a breeze from the north and north-east blew pretty regularly throughout the day.  Mr. Burke and King are preparing to go up the creek in search of the blacks; they will leave me some nardoo, wood, and water, with which I must do the best I can until they return.  I think this is almost our only chance.  I feel myself, if anything, rather better, but I cannot say stronger:  the nardoo is beginning to agree better with me; but without some change I see little chance for any of us.  They have both shown great hesitation and reluctance with regard to leaving me, and have repeatedly desired my candid opinion in the matter.  I could only repeat, however, that I considered it our only chance, for I could not last long on the nardoo, even if a supply could be kept up.

Thursday, 28th June, 1861.—­Cloudy, calm, and comparatively warm night, clouds almost stationary; in the morning a gentle breeze from east.  Sky partially cleared up during the day, making it pleasantly warm and bright; it remained clear during the afternoon and evening, offering every prospect of a clear cold night.

Friday, 29th June, 1861.—­Clear cold night, slight breeze from the east, day beautifully warm and pleasant.  Mr. Burke suffers greatly from the cold and is getting extremely weak; he and King start to-morrow up the creek to look for the blacks; it is the only chance we have of being saved from starvation.  I am weaker than ever, although I have a good appetite and relish the nardoo much; but it seems to give us no nutriment, and the birds here are so shy as not to be got at.  Even if we got a good supply of fish, I doubt whether we could do much work on them and the nardoo alone.  Nothing now but the greatest good luck can save any of us; and as for myself I may live four or five days if the weather continues warm.  My pulse is at forty-eight, and very weak, and my legs and arms are nearly skin and bone.  I can only look out, like Mr. Micawber,