Under this impression, I left the camp on the 7th of the month, with Mr.Poole and two of the men.

The ranges were at a greater distance than I had imagined, but were of trifling elevation, and on arriving at them I found that the horizon to the westward was still closed from my view, by rising ground that intervened.
I should have pushed on for it, but Mr.Poole was unfortunately taken ill, and I felt it necessary to give him my own horse, as having easier paces than the one he was riding.

It was with difficulty I got him on his way back to the camp as far as the upper waterhole, just outside the Rocky Glen, at which we slept, and by that means reached the tents early on the following morning.

I had anticipated rain before we should get back, from the masses of heavy clouds that rose to the westward, after the wind, which had been variable, had settled in that quarter; but they were dispersed during the night, and the morning of the 8th was clear and warm.

We had felt it exceedingly hot the day we left the camp--there the men were oppressed with intolerable heat, the thermometer having risen to 112 degrees in the shade.