December 4. — After watering the horses, we took ten gallons upon a pack-horse, and proceeded on our return to the man we had left; the state in which our own horses were, having made it absolutely necessary to give them the day’s rest they had yesterday enjoyed. We arrived about five in the afternoon, at the little plain where we had left the man; he was anxiously looking out for us, having just finished his last quart of water. The poor mare looked very weak and wretched, but after giving her at intervals, eight gallons of water, she fed a little, and I fully hoped we should succeed in saving her life. No natives had been seen during our absence.

The night set in very dark and lowering, and I expected a heavy fall of rain; to catch which we spread our oilskins and tarpaulin, and placed out the buckets and pannekins, or whatever else would hold water: a few drops, however, only fell, and the storm passed away, leaving us as much under a feeling of disappointment, as we had been previously of hope: one little shower would have relieved us at once from all our difficulties.