I left these desolate hills, the Ehrenberg Ranges of my map, and travelled upon a different line, hoping to find a better or less thick route through the scrubs, but it was just the same, and altogether abominable.

Night again overtook me in the direful scrubs, not very far from the place at which I had slept the previous night; the most of the day was wasted in an ineffectual search for water.
On Sunday morning, the 29th September, having hobbled my horses so short, although the scrubs were so thick, they were actually in sight at dawn; I might as well have tied them up.

Starting at once, I travelled to one or two hills we had passed by, but had not inspected before.

I could find no water anywhere.

It was late when I reached the camp, and I was gladdened to find the party still there, and that the water supply had held out so long.