Started at 9 a.m. At one mile we came on yesterday's course; could see
nothing; changed the bearing to 272 degrees. At seven miles crossed a
creek running north and a little west, the water being up to our
saddle-flaps. At twelve miles the sand hills ceased, and we came upon an
elevated plain, of a light-brown soil, with fragments of stone on the
surface. At twenty-five miles, in the middle of this plain, we camped,
without wood, and in sight of a large range in the far distance to the
west. Distance to-day, twenty-five miles.

Friday, 9th July, Large Plain. Left our camp at 8.50 a.m. on the same
bearing as yesterday, 272 degrees. At one mile and half came upon a creek
of water, seemingly permanent. Judging from the immense quantity of dry
grass that is strewn over the plain, this must be a beautiful country in
spring. The dip of the country is to the north and west. Our horses are
all very lame for want of shoes, and the boggy state of the soil to-day
has tried them severely. If the country does not become less stony, I
shall be compelled to leave some of them behind. We camped on a gum creek
about three miles to the west of the range. My only hope now of cutting
Cooper's Creek is on the other side of the range. The plain we crossed
to-day resembles those of the Cooper, also the grasses; if it is not
there, it must run to the north-west, and form the Glenelg of Captain
Grey. Distance to-day, twenty-one miles.

Saturday, 10th July, Gum Creek, West End of Large Stony Plain. Rested the
horses to-day. This evening we were surprised to hear a dog barking* at
the grey mare; its colour was black and tan. (* It is commonly supposed
that the native dingo or wild dog does not bark. This is an error. The
dog in this instance being black and tan, was probably a hybrid. (See
below.))