Friday, 1 August 1862.
In Camp. Boiling down the camel's meat. Poole unwell with a slight attack
of fever and ague. We made a fine breakfast this morning off the camel
tripe and feet. I went out onto the top of a very high hill to have a
look at the country in front of us. We shall start tomorrow; I hope
shortly to find a station, if not we shall have to kill another horse,
and shall have to walk and ride alternately; I hope we shall not come to
that as the whole party will be obliged to be kept back on account of
having to keep pace with the pedestrian.
Saturday, 2 August 1862.
Started at 8.53 a.m., course east by north, each man taking with him a
certain weight of the boiled camel before him, as we are now reduced to
eleven horses, one alone with pack-bags. After travelling for some nine
or ten miles we came upon the tracks of bullocks, quite fresh, and
shortly after were gratified by the sight of the bullocks themselves with
two white men tailing them. We soon now were pitching into roast beef and
damper and, don't let me forget, potatoes and mustard. The station
belongs to Messrs. Harvey and Somers and is situated on the River Bowen,
a stream that flows northward into the Burdekin. Mr. Somers was not in on
our arrival; he soon however came in, and we were most hospitably
received by him. The flour during the night and for some few days after
had the most astonishing effect on all of us from the fact that our
digestive organs could not digest the bread, being so accustomed to the
easily digested meat; we were most of us in great pain and our legs and
feet swelled very much.
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