It can be imagined how these continued attacks, in addition to the harassing nature of the country, gave the party all they knew to hold their own, and but for the prompt and plucky way in which these assaults were always met, not one of the little band would have survived. From what was afterwards found out from some of the semi-civilized natives about Somerset, these tribes followed the explorers for over four hundred miles. Leaving the Mitchell and making north, they travelled through poor country, thinly grassed, and badly watered, but the blacks were still on their heels. On the 28th December, they commenced on the horses, driving them about, and another stand-up fight ensued. Storms of rain now set in, and they had to travel through dismal ti-tree flats, with the constant expectation of being caught by a flood on low-lying country. On the 5th of January, they came to a well-grassed valley, with a good river running through it, which was named the Archer, and on the 9th crossed another river, which was supposed to be the Coen. On leaving this river, troubles thickened around them; the rain continued incessantly, the country was so boggy they could scarcely get their animals along at all, and to add to everything, when they reached the Batavia, two horses were drowned in crossing, and six more were poisoned [See appendix.] and died. Fate seemed to have pretty well done her worst; they could do nothing else but face the future manfully. Burying everything they possibly could, they packed all the horses, and started resolutely on foot. On the 14th, two more horses died, and the blacks came once more to see how they were getting on. As may be imagined, the white men were in not much of a humour for patience, and the skirmish was a brief one. On the 17th, two more horses died from the effects of the poison plant, and they were reduced to fifteen out of the forty-two with which they started. They were now approaching the narrow crest of the cape, and found themselves on a dreary waste of sandy, barren country, whereon only heath grew, intersected too with boggy creeks. On the 10th of January, they caught a glimpse of the sea to the eastward, from the top of a tree, and on the 20th it was in plain view. They were now amongst the same description of scrubs that had played such havoc with Kennedy, and day after day they only advanced a few miles. On the 29th, after many days of bog and scrub cutting, it was determined to halt the cattle, whilst the two Jardines made an effort to reach Somerset, and find a less difficult track, as they now believed themselves only twenty miles from that place; but in reality they were more, although, after the country they had passed through, any calculation that could be made would be only approximate.