Tuesday, 3rd July, The Bonney Creek. We have not seen any more of the natives yet. I shall rest the horses to-day, there being plenty of feed, which they very much want. Being so very few of us, I am obliged to turn them out with the saddles on; so that, if we are attacked again, one can put the packs on, while I and the other defend him. The water in this hole is very much reduced, but I think it will not fail altogether, in consequence of the small fish being in it. From the diminution of the water in this creek since I left it, a month ago, I am inclined to think that I shall have a very hard push to get back; my horses being so weak from the hardships they have undergone, that they are now unable to do as much as they did before. I fear that I shall not get any water between this and Forster's range, a distance of upwards of eighty miles, so I shall rest them here for a week, if the natives will be quiet; if not, I must run the risk of losing more of them. To-day, I had made up my mind to follow out this creek, to see if the waters continue, and if it would take me to the north of the spinifex and gum-tree plain which I had to turn back from on my north-west course from Mount Denison, and if rain falls to try again for the Victoria River. I am, however, disappointed, for, on weighing the rations, I find I am terribly short, which I did not expect, and which cuts off all hope of my attaining that point. My troubles and vexations seem to come upon me all at once. Had I but a stronger party, and six months' rations, I think I should be able to accomplish something before my return. I have done my best, and can do no more. My eyesight is now so bad that I cannot depend upon my observations, which will be a great loss to me; and the scurvy has returned with greater severity. Before I start on my return, if everything goes right, I shall run down this creek a short distance. It may, at some future time, turn out to be the road to the Victoria River, or one of its tributaries. Wind south and south-west. Wednesday, 4th July, The Bonney Creek. The water in this hole has been diminishing very rapidly since we were here; it is falling at the rate of six inches per day, which is a poor look-out for us on our homeward course. I have not a day to spare now, as the weather is becoming very hot, and will dry it up much faster. I must push back as soon as my horses are rested and able to undergo the eighty miles without water. I must give up the examination of this creek, for every day now is of the utmost importance, and I must not give the horses one mile more than I can help. Oh! that rain would fall before I leave this. It would indeed be an inestimable blessing. Wind from all points. At sundown a few clouds have made their appearance.