Sunday, 24th June, Kekwick Ponds. Our black friends have not made their appearance to-day. Monday, 25th June, Kekwick Ponds. Started again on a bearing of 345 degrees to some very distant hills, to see if I can get into the face of the country to the Gulf of Carpentaria. At two miles crossed a large gum creek (with long beds of concrete ironstone), which I have named Hayward Creek, after Frederick Hayward, Esquire. The banks are beautifully grassed, and extend for four miles on the north side. At fourteen miles struck a gum creek with large sheets of water in which were plenty of ducks, native companions, black shags, cranes, and other birds. Camped here for the remainder of the day. The course of the creek at this point is to the north of east, and coming from the north of west, apparently from the range, which is distant about ten miles. It very much resembles Chambers Creek. The ponds (in which we found some small fish) are about eighty yards broad, and about three quarters of a mile long, having large masses of concrete ironstone at both ends, separating the one pond from the other; large gum-trees being in the ponds. Wind north-west. Very hot. Tuesday, 26th June, Large Gum Creek, with Sheets of Water. I have resolved to follow this creek down to-day, and, if the water continues, to follow it out. Started on a course 77 degrees, and at six miles crossed the creek, which is running a little more to the north. There are long sheets of water all the way down to this, the banks in some places being steep, with the lower part formed of concrete, and the upper red sandy soil, which gives me a bad opinion of it for water, if the concrete ceases. Here we saw some blacks; they would not come near us, but walked off as fast as they could. From the top of the rise we saw where they were camped, on the banks of a large sheet of water; we passed on without taking any more notice of them, and at nine miles, not seeing any appearance of the creek, I changed my course to 25 degrees. At three quarters of a mile cut it again, but without water in it; it is much narrower and deeper, having sandy banks and bed. Changed again to 77 degrees, the creek frequently crossing our course, and at fifteen miles saw there was no hope of obtaining water. The country is becoming more sandy, and is thickly covered with spinifex and scrub. We crossed down to the banks of the creek; no rising ground visible. I must keep closer to the hills, and, as the day has been very hot, I shall return and camp at nine miles from our last camp, if there is water; if not, I shall have to camp a short way above where we saw the natives this morning. I do not wish to get too near them, or to annoy them in any way. We could find no water below where they were camped; I therefore pushed on to get above them before dark. At half-past one o'clock, about three miles from the creek, we saw where they had been examining our tracks, and as we