A bullock whose tracks I had seen further up
the creek had got bogged here. We next travelled through the pass,
which I called Briscoe's Pass, the creek now turning up nearly
north-east; in six miles further it ran under a hill, which I well
remembered in going out; at thirteen miles from the camp it ended in
the broader bosom of the Finke, where there was a fine water-hole at
the junction, in the bed of the smaller creek, which was called the
Palmer. The Finke now appeared very different to when we passed up. It
then had a stream of water running along its channel, but was now
almost dry, except that water appeared at intervals upon the surface
of the white and sandy bed, which, however, was generally either salty
or bitter; others, again, were drinkable enough. Upon reaching the
river we camped.
My expedition was over. I had failed certainly in my object, which was
to penetrate to the sources of the Murchison River, but not through
any fault of mine, as I think any impartial reader will admit. Our
outgoing tracks were very indistinct, but yet recognisable; we camped
again at Number 1. Our next line was nearly east, along the course of
the Finke, passing a few miles south of Chambers's Pillar.
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