During this wet season (1876), the Government had sent a boat to the Laura River to carry travellers across. These were very few. The boatman was very much alone, and I found that the blacks had taken the opportunity of eating him. While driving the leading team up the bank, I saw numbers of blacks' tracks all around the boat. We drew up a short distance from the bank, and after unyoking, I made my customary visit to water, with towel and bucket, which latter was filled for the cook. The water in the river was running in a channel on the opposite side, and when I was close to it, I heard a chuckle such as the blacks make. Looking towards the crossing I saw a mob of blacks bathing, and one running towards the bank. Without a second look, I dropped the bucket, and sprinting across the sand and up the bank to the waggons, I called out, "Get the rifles ready! The blacks are at the crossing." After waiting some little time we saw Sub-Inspector Townsend and his black troopers riding towards us. He stayed for dinner, and from mutual explanations I learnt it was his troopers' tracks I had seen. They were returning from an inspection down the river, and had camped at the crossing over night. They decided to have a bogey before dinner, and the boy I saw running, went to get his uniform cap to denote a trooper. Had I taken a second look, I should have seen Mr. Townsend with them. He laughingly described me racing, hidden with sand which my feet were scooping up, in my haste to get the firearms. Up to now, carrying had been so remunerative that one would have seen one-time station managers, ex-inspectors of police, old naval men, and all sorts and conditions of other men wielding the bullock-whip and making good earnings, but as competition became keener, carriage fell much lower and more difficult to obtain. The goldfield was falling off, and more in the hands of the Chinese. I had a very hard time to keep my three teams in employment during the year. In December, 1877, I again suffered severely from malaria, and having previously sold one of my teams, I decided to make another trip to Sydney, leaving the driver to bring down the two teams to the Laura, and camp there until my return. The wet season was setting in, consequently we could not procure any loading. I had an uneventful trip down to Sydney, and again met with John Dean at Mona House, in Wynyard Square. I returned to Queensland about the beginning of March, 1878, the malaria having left me. Passing through Townsville, I met Fitzmaurice, who told me that carrying had fallen away between Cooktown and the Palmer, and that he had left that district. He suggested that I should join with him in carrying to the western country, and added that he had been informed by a squatter that there was a good opening for a store at the Conn Waterhole, on the Diamantina River. This is about forty miles down the Western River, from where Winton now is.