About mid-day, we crossed a light sandy plain, on which there were some dirty puddles of water.

They were so shallow as to leave the backs of the frogs in them exposed, and they had, in consequence, been destroyed by solar heat, and were in a state of putrefaction.

Our horses refused to drink, but it was evident that some natives must have partaken of this sickening beverage only a few hours before our arrival.

Indeed, it was clear that a wandering family must have slept near this spot, as we observed a fresh made gunneah (or native hut), and their foot-prints were so fresh along the line we were pursuing, that we momentarily expected to have overtaken them.

It was late in the evening when we got out of this brush into better and more open ground, where, in ordinary seasons we should, no doubt, have found abundance of water.