29th. (Camp xxv.) Up and away in good time, over fine country the whole way, well wooded and grassed. Old Jack, a horse that has carried the governor many and many a mile, and travelling has carried me, is to die to-day, a fine plodding old brute, but, alas! he can hold out no longer, it was a labour to get him along, so I expect we shall be soon having another horse ragout.
30th. A little dew last night, and wind light. Crossed a creek shortly after starting, thickly timbered, but not so good as lately. Afterwards ridges of sandstone and granite, then crossed an oak dry creek, east-south-east, and a little further on another—plenty of kangaroo—then to a swamp with a water-hole, with water in it sufficient for our purposes, and camped. Maitland so ill he could hardly stick to the pigskin. Kirby about the same, he is come to a shadow, and Palmer and Hodgkinson both complaining. Distance about nine miles. Bad travelling on account of the slopes being so steep, and we are going down in the water-courses, pretty well grassed though and good sort. Killed old Jack. Although a mere skeleton he will make some soup for a few days, with a little liver (but no bacon), and give the sick men a spell, and time to recruit at all events, and they want it badly.
July 1st. (Camp xxvii.) No dew last night. Bell better, but complaining, and so am I a little;
