To the eastward, I found I had now long outrun the old main chain of mountains, which had turned up to the north, or rather north-north-westward; between me and it a mass of jumbled and broken mounts appeared; each separate one, however, was almost surrounded by scrubs, which ran up to the foot of the hill I was upon.
Northward the view was similar.

To the west the picture was the same, except that a more defined range loomed above the intervening scrubs--the hills furthest away in that direction being probably fifty miles distant.

The whole horizon looked dark and gloomy--I could see no creeks of any kind, the most extensive water channels were mere gullies, and not existing at all at a mile from the hills they issued from.
Watering our horses proved a difficult and tedious task; as many of them would not approach the rocky basin, the water had to be carried up to them in canvas buckets.

By the time they were all watered, and we had descended from the rocky gully, the day had passed with most miraculous celerity.

The horses did not finish the water, there being nearly sufficient to give them another drink.