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Updated: June 8, 2025
At the end of two hours the motion of the horse became so dreadful to me, and the pain I was suffering from was such as no language can describe; but I still continued in the saddle, and, within a mile and a half of the water, met Frew, whom Thring had sent to say that he had found plenty of water in the clay-pans, with green grass, and that the party had moved on to it.
Wednesday, 29th October, Clay-pans East of Mount Hay. This morning I feel a little relieved in comparison with my exhausted state of yesterday. I had a very troubled night's rest. All hands cutting up the horse, and hanging up the meat to dry. Thring and Nash out for two long poles to fix the chair in, which they succeeded in finding.
There were a few dry clay-pans here, but no water. We were sixty miles from the rock, and to all appearance we might have to go sixty, or a hundred, or more miles before we should reach water. The only water I knew on this line of latitude was at the Finke itself, nearly 200 miles away.
Distance from where we were then to the clay-pans, six miles further. I could no more sit in the saddle that distance than I could fly; I am now already completely exhausted, and have still a mile and a half to ride before I can reach the other water. To that I must go, and see what a night's rest will do in the morning.
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