Sunday, 22nd August, On the Shore at Streaky Bay. Started at 11 a.m. to make Mr. Gibson's station. The horses did not arrive until 10.30, as they had gone back on their tracks of yesterday. During the time Forster was after them, I managed to shoot a crow, and cooked him in the ashes. We had him for breakfast--the first food we have had for the last three days; it was very agreeable to taste and stomach, for we were beginning to feel the cravings of nature rather severely. I hope Mr. Gibson will be at the Depot; it will be a fine trouble if he is not, and we have to travel two hundred and forty miles on the chance of shooting something. Twenty-four miles to Mr. Gibson's station, where we were received and treated with great kindness, for which we were very thankful. We enjoyed a good supper, which, after three days' fasting, as may readily be imagined, was quite a treat.