On our route we passed the spot where, on the 29th ultimo, we had been compelled to kill the horse; the native dogs had already made it a perfect skeleton and scattered its bones about.
NATIVE AND HIS DOG.
I committed unintentionally this day what must have appeared to the natives a very wanton act of aggression: as we were passing the river, a dog, not of the Australian breed, came from a pass in the rocks on the opposite side, moving quietly towards us over some flat rocks; when he had advanced a few yards from the pass he stopped and looked back, so that from his manner I might have known that his master was near, but without reflection I fired and struck the ground close to him; he became alarmed and ran back in the same line he had come; I now took up my own rifle and just as he turned a point in the rocks I fired, and, although a very long shot, I struck him far forward in the shoulder.

For a moment he staggered, then turned round and limped up a glen in the hills in quite a different direction.

I had neither time nor strength to follow him, but on passing the river I found from the tracks that minute made that a single native had been coming down to the river with the dog, and had (probably from hearing the shots) turned sharp off to the right and made his escape into some bushes.

This day the weakness of our last sheep obliged us to kill it.
CONTINUATION OF ROUTE BACK.

CHANGE OF TRACK.
April 5.
I continued on our old track this morning until I had passed the other river, and then, quitting our former route, made a push straight over the sandstone ridge for our old enemy the marsh, as I felt sure after the present long continuance of fine weather that it would be now quite passable.