_Tuesday, October 16th_.--Left Chakani pan at 9 a.m. Travelled over very heavy sand for nine miles to a large open vlei called Lemonie, which, when full of water, is nearly a mile in length, a great resort for wild-fowl and that beautiful bird the berg swallow, the size of a dove, with a brilliant golden copper-colour plumage on the back, and light salmon colour and sky-blue breast. This pan is surrounded by gentle rising ground with bush, where I endeavoured to secure some of those small birds that are rare even here, being of a dark golden-purple, and less in size than our common wren at home. Finding no water, I proceeded on to Lotsane river, nine miles, and outspanned for the night; no water. Found for the first time all our water-casks empty, my driver having forgotten to fill them at Chakani pan. Having explored up and down the river without finding any, after one kettle of coffee being made, went to bed, with the hope of finding water to-morrow. _Wednesday, 17th, 4 a.m_.--Sent my driver out and went myself to look for water; no signs of any. Treked three miles and outspanned to give oxen a feed on green young grass, as they have not had water since Monday afternoon. Went without coffee this morning to reserve what little we have for our mid-day meal, then it will be exhausted. This is the first time for twelve years I have been without water by my waggon. _Thursday, 18th_.--Retraced my steps six miles, as I met a Boer with his two waggons, who told me he had got a Bushman to show him where the oxen could get water, about two miles off the road, in the bush. Sent my span and boys down to it, but the water was so muddy I could not drink it; filled two bottles, such as it was. The Boer told me I could get good water eight miles beyond Phalasque vlei, the pan being a mile to the right of the road, then I could get water along the road to carry me to the Tati river; consequently, shall start early to-morrow to reach it. _Friday, 19th_.--Inspanned at 4 a.m. No sign of rain, although plenty of storms. Treked on to Phalasque vlei; no water. Then pushed on over a fearful sandy road at the rate of one and a half miles an hour. Thermometer 94 degrees in the waggon. This is a God-forsaken country, no people, no game, no birds, no water, nothing but hot sandy roads to travel over, but beautifully-wooded and fine grass. Reached the spot described by the Boer, saddled-up to look for the pan, found two, both dry. Treked on another five miles, and outspanned for the night; no water for man or beast; my forelooper drank up what little remained in the night. He is what is termed a Cape boy, a perfect beast in the way of eating and drinking. My driver, a Hottentot, is a fine fellow, good at everything.