Still in Camp 19--not the most enviable place in the world. Heavy dew last night. I am afraid the meat we are attempting to dry will be a failure on account of the moist state of the weather. I was sadly grieved on return of the party that went to see after the horses to learn that one of our very best horses (Rowdy) was lying dead a short distance down the river, still warm; he must have been poisoned or bitten by a snake; at present we will feel his loss much as he was so strong and always kept fat. Although the meat will not be quite dry I will see and make a start out of this in the morning in case it may be some poisonous herb that may happen to be in the bed of the river. I will return up the river to where the main branch joined the tributary we came down, and try by following it for some distance to get some place where I can ascend the ranges to the east, but I expect it to be a work of great difficulty; however that I will think nothing of if I only succeed and get the animals all over safe. The weather seems taking up now. Thursday, June 19. Camp 19. Beautiful morning, not a breath of wind. Try what success we will have up the main branch of this river in finding a passage over the range to eastward. Have got rid of everything we can possibly spare and that will now be of little use to us and had them buried on the south-west side of creek, under the creek side of large broken-off standing dead tree, and up the bank about forty yards from a large gumtree, with a large square patch of bark taken off and small arrow at 4 o'clock in the direction should they be sought for, which I much doubt. The horses don't look at all the thing I am sorry to see, knowing that they have some heavy work immediately before them; even before attempting to ascend the ranges we have to travel in the bed of the river where the sand is excessively heavy and trying on the poor animals in their present leg-weary state and want of condition. I never saw animals fall off so suddenly in my life. Followed our tracks back to the junction of the two branches about two and a half miles, then took the left-hand or south-east branch, found it improve much more than I had anticipated; the rocky hills recede occasionally and leave a nice bank of grass, but most of it recently burnt by the natives; on our left the rock appeared now to be chiefly slate, while on the right it still remained sandstone and quartz; the bed is broad and generally very open and sandy, upon which we have principally to travel; followed it for about eight miles in about an east-south-east course. From here (Camp 20) for some distance (seen from a hill here) the river appears to receive from the east by south generally plenty of water at intervals and generally at those places running; no doubt all the way it runs either over or under the land. Where we are now encamped the river is upwards of 150 yards broad. We found on turning out the camel meat to air that it was quite putrid and