This morning Mr.
Tietkens, when out after the horses, found a rather deep native well
some distance up the creek, and we shifted the camp to it. On the way
there I was behind the party, and before I overtook them I heard the
report of firearms. On reaching the horses, Jimmy Andrews had his
revolver in his hand, Mr. Tietkens and Gibson being away. On inquiring
of Jimmy the cause of the reports and the reason of his having his
revolver in his hand, he replied that he thought Mr. Tietkens was
shooting the blacks, and he had determined to slaughter his share if
they attacked him. Mr. Tietkens had fired at some wallabies, which,
however, did not appear at dinner. On arrival at the new well, we had
a vast amount of work to perform, and only three or four horses got
water by night.
I told Mr. Tietkens not to work himself to death, as I would retreat
in the morning to where there was water, but he persisted in working
away by himself in the night, and was actually able to water all the
horses in the morning. Labor omnia vincit. Last night there was a
heavy fall of dew, thermometer 28 degrees, but no frost or ice. I was
delighted to turn my back upon this wretched place.
The object of our present line was to reach the new hills seen from
the Anthony Range.
