compelled to halt, after a day's journey of twenty-nine miles; but
without a blade even of withered grass for our horses, which was the more
grievous, because for the first time since we left the last water, a very
heavy dew fell, and would have enabled them to feed a little, had there
been grass. We had now traversed 138 miles of country from the last
water, and according to my estimate of the distance we had to go, ought
to be within a few miles of the termination of the cliffs of the Great
Bight.

May 3.--The seventh day's dawn found us early commencing our journey. The
poor horses still crawled on, though slowly. I was surprised that they
were still alive, after the continued sufferings and privations they had
been subject to. As for ourselves, we were both getting very weak and
worn out, as well as lame, and it was with the greatest difficulty I
could get Wylie to move, if he once sat down. I had myself the same kind
of apathetic feeling, and would gladly have laid down and slept for ever.
Nothing but a strong sense of duty prevented me from giving way to this
pleasing but fatal indulgence.

The road to-day became worse than ever, being one continued succession of
sandy, scrubby and rocky ridges, and hollows formed on the top of the
cliffs along which our course lay. After travelling two and a half miles,
however, we were cheered and encouraged by the sight of sandy hills, and
a low coast stretching beyond the cliffs to the south-west, though they
were still some distance from us. At ten miles from where we had slept, a
native road led us down a very steep part of the cliffs, and we descended
to the beach. The wretched horses could scarcely move, it was with the
greatest difficulty we got them down the hill, and now, although within
sight of our goal, I feared two of them would never reach it. By
perseverance we still got them slowly along, for two miles from the base