Whilst busily engaged upon one of them, in trying to get some crabs out from its clefts, I did not notice that the surf sometimes washed over where I stood, until whilst stooping, and in the act of fishing out a crab, a roller came further than usual and dashing over me, threw me down and took both me and my crabs to some distance, nearly carrying us down the steep into the sea, from which nothing could have rescued me, as I should soon have been dashed to pieces by the breakers against the rocks.

Having gathered up the crabs I had collected, I set off homewards in a sad cold uncomfortable plight, with the skin scraped off my hands and one of my heels, and with my shoes in such a state from scrambling about among the rocks and in the wet, as strongly to indicate to me the propriety of never attempting to go crab hunting again with my shoes on, unless I wished to be placed altogether "hors du combat" for walking.

Wylie I found had got up the horses and watered them, and had brought up a supply of water for the camp, so that we had nothing to do in the afternoon but boil crabs and eat them, at which occupation I found him wonderfully more skilful than I was, readily getting through two to my one.
On the 25th we still remained in camp to take advantage of the abundant supply of food we had for ourselves, and by giving the horses a long rest, enable them also to recruit a little upon the excellent grass which grew in this neighbourhood.

Wylie took the rifle out to try to get another kangaroo, but did not succeed.

I remained at home to mend my boots, and prepare for advancing again to-morrow.