The Birds We Flushed Up Would Probably Dart Across The Scrubs To The Oasis We Had So Recently Found. Our Horses Were Getting Bad And Thirsty; The Day Was Warm; 92 Degrees In The Shade, In Thirst And Wretchedness, Is Hot Enough, For Any Poor Animal Or Man Either.

But man enters these desolate regions to please himself or satisfy his desire for ambition to win for himself - what?

A medal, a record, a name? Well, yes, dear reader, these may enter into his thoughts as parts of a tangible recognition of his labours; but a nobler idea also actuates him - either to find, for the benefit of those who come after him, some beauteous spots where they may dwell; or if these regions can't supply them, of deserts only can he tell; but the unfortunate lower is forced into such frightful privations to please the higher animals. We now turned up towards the north-west, amongst scrubs, sandhills, and more stony ridges, where another fruitless search ended as before. Now to the east of us rose a more continuous ridge, which we followed under its (base) foot, hoping against hope to meet some creek or gully with water. Gullies we saw, but neither creeks or water. We continued on this line till we struck our outgoing track, and as it was again night, we encamped without water. We had travelled in a triangle. To-day's march was forty-three miles, and we were yet twenty-nine from the tarn - apparently the only water existing in this extraordinary and terrible region.

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